hell in earth
by dayra
Summary: peeta's POV. starting from when he was hiding in the mud - this is how i think the book would've been like from peeta's pov. please review/comment. thanx. enjoy :D
1. Hell in earth

Could hell possibly be worst than this? I doubt it. I could laugh at the devil right now. I hope Katniss is better than me – all covered in mud, wounded, unable to defend myself. Of course she is. She's smart and now that she has the bow and arrows, she holds an advantage over the others. She could kill me easily right now – actually, she could've killed me anytime; I was never much of an opponent against her. If I could choose I would rather she was the one to kill me. At least she wouldn't do it in a sadistic way…

Who am I kidding? I just want to see her. Even if it costs me my life. Yes, I would give my life for her. My life always belonged to her. All my injuries – specially the painful gash in my leg – are worth it if it meant saving her life. I wish she understood how much she means to me. She knows, but she doesn't understand. I hope she know that I didn't betray her. That I only joined the careers to make sure they didn't hurt her.

I wish she was here with me right now. I wish that just once – before my life slips away – I could caress her face, her lips… that I could hold her in my arms, protect her from any harm. Or, that in the contrary, she would hold me in hers, so that I could finally feel safe from the brutalities of this world.

… I wonder if I'll make it through the night.


	2. Hope

I wake up startled, surprised that I actually slept through the night. Surprised that I actually _made it_ through the night. I become aware of the pain in my upper thigh – the pain that _almost_ drowns out all the others – and moan in spite of myself. I instinctively reach out for my leg, but this is not a very brilliant idea; the sudden movement after having been still for so long sends dagger-like pains trough my entire body. I bite my tongue to keep from screaming; the last thing I need right now is calling attention to myself while I'm in this condition.

I slowly sit up – wincing as this simple movement makes the world spin – and take a deep breath to steady myself. I stare at my swollen leg. I think about inspecting it but reconsider as soon as I try pulling off my pants and a piercing pain engulfs me, making me dizzy.

It's no use. There's no possible chance that I'll survive this. The water puddles around me will keep me going for so long. But I can't hunt. I can't fend for myself. And there's also the fact that I can't treat my wounded leg. It ought to get infected – I am all covered in mud after all. And I think Cato cut me deep, considering the extreme pain any minimal movement causes me.

I look up the sky. The sun is almost at the center. Wow. How long was I out? And is it just me or is it _really_ hot in here? My first thought is that the gamemakers have been messing with the temperature, but the heat reaches deeper than the sun would. I feel as if my insides are burning. Fever. My leg must be in a really bad condition. And I guess the stings must be adding up to that too.

As I'm dwelling up on my misfortune I hear what could be literally considered my _only_ hope: Claudius Templesmith announcing that there can now be two winners as long as they're from the same District.

Two winners. Two winners. I try to comprehend these two simple words, but they are so absurdly impossible that I have to repeat Claudius's message over and over in my head before I can understand them, believe them. I should feel happy; I should feel like I now stand a chance. But I can't be sure. Katniss probably hates me now. She must think that I betrayed her and I can't go looking for her to explain. My only hope is if she looks for me. But why would she do that when she thinks that I tried to kill her? Well, there goes my _only_ hope, I think resigned.

I slowly lay back again, instantly becoming part of the scenery as soon as my mud-covered body slightly sinks into the mud pool I'm laying on. I let my mind wonder, wonder to the core of my existence.

"Katniss"_, _I whisper her name, forgetting the stung, swollen bump in my cheek. I wince, and not just because now my face hurts too. I can feel a greater pain now. Inside of me. Katniss. Where is she? What is she thinking now that she knows we both could win? Is she alright? I laughed darkly, emphasizing the pain in my face. No one is _alright_ in the hunger games. I guess the right question would be: _is she alive?_ I hope so. I couldn't bear it if she didn't exist anymore. There would be no sense in breathing if she was gone…

The cool mud feels good on my blazing skin, and eventually the fever mercifully pulls me back into unconsciousness. My dream centers on Katniss, of course. I'm not sure where we are. I can't notice anything besides her beauty. She's wearing the costume Cinna made for her for the parade. The flames engulf her, emphasizing her features. She looks so beautiful. She's smiling, smiling at me. Oh, how I wish I wouldn't wake up from this dream.

"Peeta"_, _she calls to me. "Where are you?!" Her voice is so clear, so real. _Too_ real. I open my eyes; the sun is not high above me anymore.

"Peeta!" She calls again.

My heart thuds painfully in my chest. She's here. She's looking for me. She's here. My brain is still foggy from having slept so long that I don't know whether the fact that she's looking for me is a good thing or not. Maybe, since she doesn't know that I'm wounded, she's looking for me to become allies. Maybe she just wants to kill me. I don't care. I'm going to die either way.

"Here to finish me off sweetheart?" I intended to say it sarcastically, but my voice didn't have enough force.

"Peeta? Where are you?"She was silent for a while and, as she looked for me, she came to literally stand on top of me without noticing.

I didn't open my eyes. "Well, don't step on me". Somehow, there was now humor in my voice.

She gasps as I open my eyes and I can't help but laugh. Her voice was full of surprise and even relief. She jumps off of me.

"Close your eyes again", she orders. I do so and she gasps again. "Iguess all those hours decorating cakes paid off", she muses.

I smile. "Yes, frosting. The final defense of the dying", I say sarcastically. But it's true. If it hadn't been for the mud concealing me from the killers I would have been dead for sure.

But right now I don't want to think about this. I'm just so happy to see Katniss again before I die. What else could I ask of life as my last wish?


	3. Just a human

**Unfortunately I do not own THE HUNGER GAMES…but I hope u enjoy my version :)**

**I'll try to write as often as I can… please review and tell me what u think of it so far. Feel free to make suggestions. Peace out! ^^ lol**

"You're not going to die," she says firmly. She sounds like she's trying to convince herself. I would follow along to make her feel good, but I know even she knows what the odds are right now.

"Says who?" I ask louder than before. My voice comes out ragged from both pain and the lack of its use.

"Says me." She sounds serious. "We're on the same team now, you know."

I open my eyes. "So I heard." That had been my first flicker of hope since the games started. "Nice of you to find what's left of me," I say sincerely, but I can deny that I'm only glad to see her before I die. Because I'm going to die. It doesn't matter that she's on my team now – there's no way that I'll make it. Sure, she can protect me from the other tributes, but I know my infected leg is going to cost me my life.

Katniss pulls out a water bottle and touches it to my lips so that I can drink from it. _Oh, clean, tasty water_. I take a long sip.

"Did Cato cut you?" she asks.

Oh yes he did. He signed my death in my leg with that knife. "Left leg. Up high."

"Let's get you in the stream, wash you off so I can see what kind of wounds you've got." _Trust me, you don't want to see_, I think, but keep it to myself.

"Lean down a minute first. Need to tell you something," I say, and regret the words instantly. An idea just popped into my head, and as stupid as it is, I can't help myself._ What's the harm in it_? I try to convince myself. _The worst she can do is say no_. She leans down, her ear almost touching my lips. But I cower at the last second and twist my words so that they sound as just a joke. "Remember, we're madly in love," _well, __**I**__ am,_ "so it's alright to kiss me anytime you feel like it." _As __**many**__ times you feel like it._

She jerks her head back and stares at me surprised, but then just laughs. "Thanks, I'll keep it in mind."

_Well, I gave it a try, _I think resigned.

She seems confident as she tries to help me up, but I can see it in her face that her hopes crumble when she realizes I'm unable to move an inch on my own. She tries to drag me, and I try not to scream in pain, but a small moan escapes my lips without permission and I can see she understands. The water's about two feet away, but unless she can carry me, there's no way I'm getting anywhere closer to the water. I feel a sharp staggering pain in my leg and I grit my teeth so that no sound escapes my lips. But I can feel warm tears running down my face so it's no use.

"Look Peeta, I'm going to roll you into the stream. It's very shallow here, okay?" She doesn't seem so confident anymore.

"Excellent," I answer. I can't stand up.

She crouches down beside me. "On tree, "she says. "One, two, three!" She rolls me over once, but as my leg presses against the ground I feel as though I'm being stabbed again, and a sharp cry of pain leaves my lips. We're at the edge of the stream at least.

"Okay, change of plans." She sounds panicked. "I'm not going to put you all the way in."

"No more rolling?" I asked relieved.

"That's all done. Let's get you cleaned up. Keep an eye in the woods for me, okay?" _Well, that's as much as I'm able to do right now anyway_. She stands over me, assessing my condition. She fills three bottles with water and scrapes some mud off me with her hands.

She unzips my jacket, unbuttons my shirt, and gently eases them off me. I hope no one's stalking us right now, because my attention is definitely _off_ the woods for the moment. My heart is thudding against my ribs. I'm just human after all, and I can't control the impossible fantasies that are running through my head right now. My undershirt is plastered into my wounds and so she has to cut it away with her knife. She absently rests her hand on my chest as she cuts through the fabric. As casual and meaningless that simple touch is to her, it's enough to drive me insane.

I try to push my inappropriate thoughts away. This is _so_ _not_ the right time to let my wild thoughts distract me. Actually I shouldn't be having these thoughts at all. I can feel my face blushing and I'm glad it's still covered in mud.

She props me up against a boulder and washes away the dirt from my hair and skin. I try not to be overly aware of her soft hands rubbing against my skin. I have no problem concentrating while she digs the tracker jacker stingers out of my swollen lumps. I wince, but I'm relieved as soon as she applies I don't know what to my stings. She washes my jacket and my shirt and when she's done with that she then applies a cream to my burned chest. Her hands feel cold to my skin, but I know it's the fever. She digs something out of her bag and comes out with two nasty looking pills.

"Swallow these" she orders. I obediently swallow the medicine. "You must be hungry," she muses.

"Not really. It's funny, I haven't been hungry for days." And that it's definitely something to worry about.

She offers me some sort of meat, but just looking at it makes my stomach churn uncomfortably.

"Peeta, we need to get some food in you." She sounds like a scolding mother.

"It'll just come right back up," I complain like a stubborn child. But she does get me to eat a few bites of dried apple. "Thanks. I'm much better, _really_." I feel drowsy and I have to fight against my heavy eye-lids. "Can I sleep now, Katniss?" I beg.

"Soon," she promises. "I need to look at your leg first."

Uh - oh. This is not good. This is going to involve moving my leg and that's not good at all. I grimace, and grit my teeth together, trying to ready myself for the surely oncoming pain.


	4. Dreaming

**Sorry about the short chapters, but my imagination can only go so far each day lol. Feel free to make suggestions as the story goes. I'll try to keep it as close the original version as possible but from peeta's pov. Enjoy ^.^!**

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She first removes my boots and socks, and then, very slowly, inches my pants off of me. My imagination should be running wild right now, but the pain in my leg somehow makes it impossible to think in anything else besides it. I look at my leg; it's swollen and the gash is oozing both blood and pus. I smell something vile – like festering meat – and it takes me a minute to realize that it is coming from my leg.

Katniss's face is expressionless, but there's a thin sheet of sweat forming in her forehead, and she's turning a strange shade of green.

"Pretty awful, huh?" I ask, watching her closely.

"So-so," she shrugged like it was no big deal. But I wasn't born yesterday. "You should see some of the people they bring my mother from the mines…" she shudders lightly. "First thing is to clean it well."

She washes it, pouring bottle after bottle of water on my legs.

"Why don't we give it some air and then…" she trails off unsure.

"And then you'll patch it up?" I finish her sentence.

"That's right," she says trying to sound professional. "In the meantime, you eat these." She gives me a few dried pear pieces and goes back to the stream to finish washing my clothes. I shouldn't let her waste her energy on me. What's the point? I don't think it matters whether I die in clean or dirty clothes.

After she's done she looks trough the contents of a first-aid kit bag. _Where did she get that? _I wonder.

"We're going to have to experiment some," she admits. She starts by pressing the same leaves she used for my stings on the gash in my leg. Pus begins to run down the side of my leg and that same strange shade of green returns to her face.

"Katniss?" I ask trying to distract her. She looks up at me, meeting my eyes. "How about that kiss?" I whisper joking, but secretly wishing she would say yes.

It works..kind of; she bursts out laughing but she sounds a little hysteric.

"Something wrong?" I ask innocently.

"I…I'm no good at this." She stammers. "I'm not my mother. I've no idea what I'm doing and I hate pus," she concludes grimacing. "Euh!" she groans as she washes away the leaves and applies a second round. "Euuuh!"

"How do you hunt?" I wonder. If she's complaining about this how can she be able to shoot an arrow through an animal's eye?

"Trust me. Killing things is much easier than this," she pauses but then adds "Although for all I know I am killing you."

"Can you speed it up a little?" I ask; it's getting hard to keep my eyes open.

"No. shut up and eats your pears," she snaps.

She silently works over my leg, applying leaves and washing them away once they dry.

"What's next, Dr. Everdeen?" I ask trying to lighten the mood.

"Maybe I'll put some of the burn ointment on it. I think it helps with infection anyway. And wrap it up?" she adds looking uncertain. She looks me over for a minute and then reaches for one of her bags. "Here, cover yourself with this and I'll wash your shorts," she says handing me the bag.

"Oh, I don't care if you see me," I answer automatically. I guess living in a house full of boys has taken away my shyness and shame.

Katniss blushes. "You're just like the rest of my family," she says. "I care, all right?" she turns her back to me. I shrug. I guess I wouldn't be comfortable either if I had to see her naked in a situation other than a romantic one. Or would I? I take off my shorts, cover myself with the bag and throw the shorts to the stream. I'm surprised to see I'd regained enough strength for this simple action.

"You know, you're kind of squeamish for such a lethal person," I muse as she washes my shorts. "I wish I'd let you give Haymitch a shower after all."

"What's he sent you so far?" she asks.

"Not a thing," I answer. I'm glad he hadn't wasted the sponsor's money on me. What if Katniss needed it? "Why, did you get something?"

"Burn medicine," she sounds embarrassed. I guess she misunderstood my pause. "Oh, and some bread."

"I always knew you were his favorite." And I'm glad for that.

"Please, he can't stand being in the same room with me," she says.

"Because you're just alike," I mutter. _You're both very smart_. I hope that works in Katniss's advantage just like it did for Haymitch.

As hard as I try not to, I doze off. In my dream I'm laying down in soft, green grass on a meadow. Katniss is with me. She's laying down, too, resting her head on my chest. I wrap my arms tightly around her, holding her closer to me. But this is just a dream, and I'm going to wake up sooner or later. And I don't want to wake up. If this is the only way I can be with her like this, I want to dream for ever.


	5. Flicker of happyness

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I wake to Katniss's light shake of my shoulder.

"Peeta, we have to go now," she says with a hint of urgency in her voice.

"Go?" I ask feeling a little confused. "Go where?"

"Away from here," she says looking around. "Downstream maybe. Somewhere we can hide you until you're stronger."

She helps me dress, leaving my feet bare so that I can walk in the water, and tries to pull me upright. A staggering pain nearly nocks me unconscious as soon as I put my weight on my bad leg, and I can feel the blood drain from my face.

"Come on. You can do this," Katniss encourages me.

But I can't. We must have walked about fifty yards or so downstream, with most of my weight propped on her shoulder, when I start to feel as though my head is not connected to my body anymore, and dark spots start blocking my vision.

Katniss seems to realize this and makes me sit on the bank, pushing my head between my knees, and patting my back awkwardly while I recover.

Once I'm able to stand again, she half-carries me up to a cave. By the time we reach the cave I'm panting and shivering, and I can feel that the blood hasn't yet returned to my face.

I watch as Katniss cover's the floor of the cave with pine needles and then unrolls her sleeping bag. She makes me lay down and tucks me in into her sleeping bag, zipping it all the way up to my chin. She forces another two nasty pills on me, but I refuse to eat the fruit. There really would be no point to it – it wouldn't even make it to my stomach before it came back up again.

I watch her as she tries – unsuccessfully – to build a door to cover the cave out of vines and rocks. She stares at her creation for a while and then angrily tears it down in frustration.

"Katniss," I whisper. She comes over and crouches next to me. "Thanks for finding me," I say. I know how big of a sacrifice she has made by coming to find me. She has affected her own chances at survival.

"You would have found me if you could," she says touching my forehead. Her hand feels icy against my blazing skin.

"Yes." _Of course I would have. Even if I thought you were going to kill me as soon as you saw me…_ I can feel my life on a dangerously thin strand, and I want to make sure that she knows how much I care about her before the strand breaks. "Look, if I don't make it back –" I begin to say.

"Don't talk like that," Katniss interrupts me. "I didn't drain all that pus for nothing," she tries her hand at humor – _tries_ being the key word.

"I know," I insist, "but just in case I don't –", she places her fingers on my lips, cutting me off again.

"No, Peeta, I don't even want to discuss it."

"But I –" I try to tell her.

She leans forward, and my brain is so foggy right now that I don't realize what her intentions are until her soft lips meet mine, cutting me off. My heart about jumps out of my chest the moment our lips touch. It doesn't matter what I was about to say. I can't remember anyway.

She breaks away, pulling the edge of the sleeping bag around me.

"You're not going to die," she whispers tenderly. "I forbid it. All right?"

"All right," I whisper. But I'm not sure she heard me – _**I**_ didn't hear myself; I can only hear my accelerated pulse behind my ears.

She walks out and I lay there, staring after her. Maybe I'm dreaming, I think to myself, maybe I still haven't woken up and I'm still sleeping by the stream. No. No, it felt too real. The staggering pain on my leg as I'd walked here proves that I'm not dreaming. And my heart – It's still stubbornly trying to get out, pounding against my chest.

I sigh, truly happy for the first time in so long. _What more can I ask of this cruel world_? I think as unconsciousness begins to kick in.


	6. Sweet deal

I had just started to doze off when Katniss calls my name.

"Peeta!" she calls, a hint of enthusiasm present in her voice, but before I can even open my eyes she kisses me. I open my eyes, startled, and smile as soon as I see her face. I could watch her forever without ever getting bored. "Peeta, look what Haymitch has sent you," she says holding up a small pot.

"He sent _me_ something?" I ask unconvinced. It was surely meant for Katniss.

"Yeah," she answers cheerfully, ignoring my skeptic tone. "C'mon, let me help you up so you can eat."

"But, Katniss, I'm not hungry," I complain as she gently helps me up and leans me against the cave wall.

"I didn't ask you if you were hungry," she says flatly.

"I'm not eating," I say imitating her tone.

"Yes you are. Here," she says placing the pot in my lap.

I push the pot away and cross my arms, staring at her defiantly.

She sighs. "Peeta," she says in a gentler, persuasive tone. "You need to eat. How are you going to get better if you don't eat?"

I turn my face away from her. Yes, it's very stubborn of me, but I'm _not_ hungry.

She places her hand in my cheek and turns my face so that I'm forced to look at her. Her face is now just inches away from mine.

"Please, Peeta," she whispers intently staring into my eyes. "For me?"

"Uhh…I guess I could take a few sips." _Pathetic_. How can it take so little to change my mind? A few soft words. I'm doomed to this girl's will. I sigh and reach for the pot.

I unwillingly drink half the broth and then push it away.

"You didn't finish it," she complains.

"I can't drink anymore. I'm full."

She deliberates for a moment. "How about I make you a deal," she says. The cave's light is so poor, but I could swear she's blushing.

"What kind of deal?" I ask suspiciously.

"One kiss per sip," she says and before I can answer she leans in and swiftly touches her lips to mine. "You owe me a sip," she says grinning.

I shake my head in defeat. When she plays it like this I just can't win. I don't want to win. "That's not fair," I say and take a sip. "You're not giving another choice."

"Do you want another choice?" she asks a bit too innocently and kisses me once again.

I sigh. "No." And with that I eventually finish the broth, sip by sip, kiss by kiss.

After I'm done she sits by me until I succumb into sleep once again. I would have thought that after today's events I would dream sweet dreams, but instead I find myself wondering through an unknown forest. There's an eerie feeling about the place, but I just keep walking, trying to figure out where I am. And then the true nightmare begins. I freeze, staring in horror as Katniss's body is slowly lifted in the air and into a hovercraft. "Katniss!" I try to scream, but I can't even manage a whisper. The doors to the hovercraft close and then it disappears, taking Katniss way from me while I stand there. Alone.

I wake up jerking my body upright. Not a good idea.

"Holy damn!" I gasp in pain, laying back down again. I'm breathing heavily, both from pain and the nightmare. I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself. "Katniss?" I call out. No answer. Where is she? I wonder. "Katniss!" I call again. Nothing. Ugh! How I wish I could just scream for her. But that's not safe. What if one of the others is within hearing range?

I give up exasperated. What if she's in trouble? What if one of the others got to her? What if she's…dead? No. She's okay I tell myself. She's fine. She's probably hunting or something. But if she's hurt...I can't do anything about it. I can't even take care of myself right now. So I just lay there, useless as ever, waiting – _hoping _– for her to return. But I can't lay still. Not while I'm worrying. I take a deep breath and try to get up. And it's while I'm struggling to get up that I hear footsteps outside and then she's here. Safe.

"I woke up and you were gone," I say, relief saturating my voice. "I was worried about you."

To my surprise she laughs and then gently pushes me back down. "You were worried about me? Have you taken a look at yourself lately?"

"I thought Cato and Clove might have found you. They like to hunt at night."

"Clove? Which one is that?"

"The girl from District Two. She's still alive, right?"

"Yes, there's just them and us and Thresh and Foxface – that's what I nicknamed the girl from Five. How do you feel?" she asks looking concerned.

"Better than yesterday," I answer truthfully. "This is an enormous improvement over the mud; clean clothes and medicine and a sleeping bag…" _and more important even yet_ "and you."

She reaches out to touch my face and I catch her hand and press it to my lips.

"No more kisses for you until you've eaten," she says smiling.

She props me up against the wall and I obediently swallow the spoonfuls of berry mush she feeds me. I refuse the groosling though. I may be yearning for the feeling of her soft lips against mine, but I didn't want to puke on her either.

"You didn't sleep," I say when I notice the dark shadows under her eyes.

"I'm alright," she says, but she doesn't fool me.

"Sleep now," I insist. "I'll keep watch. I'll wake you if anything happens."

She hesitates. "Katniss, you can't stay up forever," I point out.

"Alright," she agrees. "But just for a few hours. Then you wake me."

She smoothes the sleeping bag on the cave floor, grabs her bow, and lays down. I sit beside her, leaning against the wall, my bad leg stretched out in front of me. I stare through the cave's door onto the outside world.

"Go to sleep," I say softly as I brush the loose strands of hair off her forehead. Eventually she falls asleep. She looks so defenseless while she sleeps, and without her usual frown in her forehead she looks even more beautiful than usual. I gently caress her face, happy that I'm able to do so. I remember all the times when I would watch her from a distance, wishing to have an excuse to talk to her, but never finding any. It all seems so silly; having had to be placed in an arena where everyone's trying to kill us, where we had been supposed to kill each other in the beginning, so that I could finally talk to her. So I guess, in a sick way, this is my destiny. Otherwise I would've never worked the courage to talk to her.

If I make it, I'm going to have to thank the game makers, I laugh darkly to myself.

Katniss told me to wake her in a few hours, but since nothing interesting – alarming – happens, I let her sleep through the day. The sun has already made its way past the center of the sky when Katniss wakes up. She sits up looking around confused.

"Peeta, you were supposed to wake me in a couple of hours," she says annoyed.

"For what? Nothing's going on her," I answer her and then teasingly add, "Besides I like watching you sleep. You don't scowl. Improves your look a lot."

She scowls in response and I can't help but grin. She _almost_ smiles, but then her scowl becomes deeper as she touches my cheek. Her hand feels as icy as ever on my skin. Not a good sign. She looks at me accusingly.

"I've been drinking plenty of water," I say defensively. I drank every time I was thirsty… which now that I think about it, wasn't very often. Oops.

She checks the bottles and shakes her head, frowning impossibly deeper. She gives me two more fever pills and stands over me while I drink first one, then a second quart of water. She then tends to my minor wounds, burns, and stings, saving the worst for last.

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_**Hope you liked my one sip per kiss idea ^^ **_

_**Please review. Toodles.**_


	7. Below the belt

_*****_

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_**Thank you for your reviews :) I'm glad you guys enjoyed the last Chp.**_

_**Hope you enjoy this one, too. I'm up for any suggestions. Adios! ^^ **_

You would have thought that after all the care she put into it, it would have improved. But it didn't.

Her face goes completely pale at the sight of my leg. Mine does too. The pus is gone, but the swelling has increased and the tight shiny skin is inflamed. That's not so bad… but the red streaks starting to crawl up my leg are. Blood poisoning.

"Well, there's more swelling, but the pus is gone," she says in an unsteady voice.

"I know what blood poisoning is, Katniss," I say calmly. "Even if my mother wasn't a healer."

"You're just going to have to outlast the others, Peeta. They'll cure it back at the capital when we win."

That would be a great plan…if blood poisoning worked that way.

"Yes, that's a good plan," I say mostly for her benefit. I know that I won't make it. I always knew that one way or the other I wouldn't make it back alive.

"You have to eat," she says sounding like a scolding mother. "Keep your strength up. I'm going to make you soup."

"Don't light a fire," I say. "It's not worth it." I'm not worth it. Specially now.

"We'll see," she says. She grabs the pot and heads out.

"Ahh," I let a moan escape. The pain is so great that I'm impressed I've been able to talk to Katniss without screaming. But I can't let her see how much pain I'm in. She's already doing so much – has such a heavy burden to carry – if she knew how much pain I'm really in, it would just be that much worse for her. And I don't want her suffering with me. She might not show it, but I know she's a vulnerable person, and my pain would hurt her, too.

I take advantage of her absence and let myself crumble to pieces for just a moment… well almost; I can't exactly scream right now. Instead, I let a few tears of pain escape as I burry my face in my hands. I take a deep breath – which comes out sounding more like a gasp – trying to steady myself before Katniss returns.

Just in time, too; Katniss comes back sooner than I thought she would. I smile up at her, but she frowns in return. I guess my face wasn't as composed as I thought. She puts wet clothes in my forehead, but they warm up so fast they can't be doing any good.

"Do you want anything," she asks.

"No, thank you," I automatically answer but then something pops into my head. "Wait, yes. Tell me a story." I need to distract my mind from the pain.

"A story? What about?" she asks in a wary tone.

"Something happy. Tell me the happiest day you can remember."

She sighs in exasperation. I can tell she's racking her brain, searching for a happy memory.

"Did I ever tell you how I got prim's Goat?" she asks and a smile lights her face.

I shake my head and look at her expectantly. She remains silent for a minute; probably trying to figure out where to start.

So she told me how she had sold her mother's silver locket and then bought a mauled goat, which she then tied a ping ribbon on and then given it to her sister Prim. With a motherly smile on her face she described Prim's excitement when she saw the goat, and how she even cried from happiness. She also told me how her mother and Prim had worked over the mauled goat and how after all of Prim's dedicated care, the goat got better.

"They sound like you," I comment.

"Oh, no, Peeta. They work magic. That thing couldn't have died if it tried," she says and the pauses. It takes me a minute to understand what she could have made of her own words.

"Don't worry. I'm not trying," I joke. "Finish the story."

'Well, that's it. Only I remember that night, Prim insisted on sleeping with the goat on a blanket next to the fire. And just before they drifted off, the goat licked her cheek, like it was giving her a good night kiss or something," she says. "It was mad about her."

_Kind of like me_, I think, but keep these thoughts to myself.

"Was it still wearing the pink ribbon?" I wonder.

"I think so. Why?"

"I'm just trying to get a picture," I say. One that can take my mind off the pain. "I can see why that day made you happy." And of course, the happiest day of her life doesn't even have to do with _her _happiness, but her sister's.

"Well, I knew that goat would be a little gold mine," she says .

"Yes, of course I was referring to that," I say sarcastically, "not the lasting joy you gave the sister you love so much you took her place in the reaping," I conclude drily.

"That goat _has_ paid for itself," she says defensively. "Several time over."

"Well, it wouldn't dare do anything else after you saved its life," I say smiling. "I intend to do the same," I add more seriously.

"Really? What did you cost me again?" she asks teasingly.

"A lot of trouble. Don't worry. You'll get it all back," I say joking, but hoping that last part comes true.

"You're not making sense," she says as she tests my forehead with the back of her hand. She's silent for a moment. "You're a little cooler though," she finally says.

Lies.

The sound of the trumpet startles us both. Katniss rises to her feet and goes to stand by the mouth of the cave.

I listen silently as Claudius Templesmith announces that we're all invited to a feast.

"Now hold on," he adds quickly. "Some of you may already be declining my invitation. But this is no ordinary feast. Each of you needs something desperately. Each of you will find that something in a backpack, marked with your district number, at the cornucopia at dawn. Think hard about refusing to show up. For some of you, this will be your last chance." There's a faint static noise and then everything is silent.

I grip Katniss's shoulder – guessing her plan – before she can make a run for it. "No," I say firmly. "You're not risking your life for me."

"Who said I was?" she says indifferently.

"So, you're not going?" I ask unconvinced.

"Of course, I'm not going. Give me some credit. Do you think I'm running straight into some free-for-all against Cato and Clove and Thresh? Don't be stupid," she says as she helps me back into the sleeping bag. "I'll let them fight it out, we'll see who's in the sky tomorrow night and work out a plan from there," she concludes.

More lies.

"You're such a bad liar, Katniss. I don't know how you've survived this long," I shake my head sadly. "_I knew that goat would be a gold mine_," I say in a high girlish voice. "_You're a little cooler though_," I continue to mimic her. "_Of course, I'm not going_." I shake my head again. "Never gamble at cards. You'll lose your last coin."

Her face flushes in anger. "All right, I am going, and you can't stop me!"

"I can follow you," I say calmly, staring into her eyes so she knows I mean it. "At least partway. I may not make it to the Cornucopia, but if I'm yelling your name, I bet someone can find me. And then I'll be dead for sure," I conclude.

"You won't get a hundred yards from here on that leg," she says confidently.

"Then I'll drag myself. You go and I'm going, too."

She doesn't look so sure anymore. She knows I'm not bluffing.

"What am I supposed to do?" she says frustrated. "Sit here and watch you die?"

"I won't die." _Not right now anyway_. "I promise. If you promise not to go." Because if she goes and doesn't make it back, then I'll die for sure – and _**not **_because there's not going to be anyone to look after me anymore.

"Then you have to do what I say," she says and there's a hint of something I don't recognize in her voice. "Drink your water, wake me when I tell you, and eat every bite of the soup no matter how disgusting it is!" she snaps.

"Agreed. Is it ready?"

"Wait here," she says, and heads out.

When she brings the soup I eat it without complaining. I even scrape the pot to show my enthusiasm. I compliment her about the soup – though it wasn't anywhere close to my likings at all – and she stares at me like I've just said something crazy.

She gives me another doze of fever pills and heads out again.

When she comes back she's smiling and she has the pot in her hands again.

"I've brought you a treat," she announces cheerfully. "I found a new patch of berries a little farther downstream."

I open my mouth for the first bite without hesitation. The berries are strangely overly sweet. "They're very sweet," I frown, though I enjoy the taste after the bland soup.

"Yes, they're sugar berries. My mother makes jam from them. Haven't you ever heard of them?" she says and pokes another spoonful in my mouth.

"No," I say puzzled. I've eaten many kids of berries before, and though I've never heard of these, there's something familiar about them. I chew slowly and the swallow. "But they taste familiar. Sugar berries?"

"Well, you can't get them in the market much, they only grow wild," she says staring intently down at the pot. She gives me another spoonful.

"They're sweet as syrup," I say thoughtfully. And then the obvious hits me. "Syrup." Oh no. this is not good. Ohh, I did not see this coming! This is a hit below the belt. I try to spit it out, but before I can manage it, Katniss clamps her hand over my mouth and nose, forcing me to swallow the last spoonful. She let go of me and I stick my finger down my throat in a useless attempt to make myself vomit the sleep syrup.

But it's too late. My head is already getting foggy and my eyelids heavy. My body feels like melted rubber. I slouch against the cave wall and stare at her accusingly. My eyes close against my will, and just before unconsciousness completely engulfs me, I thought I heard her say "Who can't lie, Peeta?"

I bet the audience will get a kick out of that one, I think vaguely and then sink into oblivion.


	8. puzzle pieces

When I wake I feel as though thick fog is clouding my mind. Something, pulling at the edges of my memory, trying to come back…when did I fall asleep anyway? I don't remember getting into the sleeping bag… the last thing I remember is Katniss bringing me the sugar berries…

"Katniss!" I suddenly remember. I open my eyes in a startle and jerk my body upright, in a reflex reaction, without thinking. I hold my breath, expecting the pain to take its toll for my stupid reaction…but asides from a head-rush, nothing happens, no pain. I stare at my now un-swollen leg in confusion for about a second before I become aware of the bloody scene next to me.

"Katniss!" I gasp in horror. "Oh no, oh no," I crouch anxiously over her not sure what to do. "What happened to you?" I worry out loud. I gently turn her face around. There's a huge gash in her forehead, and she has a small cut in her lip. There are also a number of bruises and scratches distributed where her skin is exposed, but those don't worry me right now. I'm more concerned with stopping the blood that's slowly flowing from her forehead. It's not a lot, but judging from the scary pool of blood she's laying in, any small amount of blood counts.

"Why couldn't you just listen to me for once?" I demand, though I know she can't hear me. Why cat you understand that if you die, I die, too? That the only reason I'm still breathing is because of you. That life wouldn't mean anything to me if _you_ stopped breathing…

I reach for the bottle of water and slowly pour it on her face, washing away the dried blood and dirt. With some effort, I manage to move her on to the sleeping bag. I look through the emergency kit and am glad to find white, sterile bandages. But before I bandage her forehead, I chew on some of those leaves she used to drain the pus from my leg, and put it on the cut until it dries and then wash it away. Finally, I put some burn ointment on her forehead, and then carefully bandage her forehead.

Her face is pale – too pale – and that worries me. The pool of blood on the cave floor is not all she lost. If she got cut at the cornucopia while fighting for whatever it is she gave me, then she had a lot of time to lose blood on her way back here.

I sit next to her, brushing the hair off her face with my fingers. I gently touch the small cut on the corner of her lips and sigh, shaking my head. This is all my fault, I think. Why didn't I just let Cato kill me? Why did I have to put this heavy burden on her fragile shoulders?

I sit by her through the entire night, sometimes staring through the cave door at nothing in particular, sometimes at her beautiful, peaceful face. Having slept through I don't know how long keeps sleep from taking me over, and I'm glad for that. I don't want to put my guard down now that she needs me. Though if our friend Cato found us right now I wouldn't be of much help… I don't know how long I sat like that before my stomach growled hungrily. I look through Katniss's bag till I find the groosling that had seemed so revolting to me a couple of days ago. I eat three pieces before I realize that's probably not a good idea, considering that Katniss is unconscious and I'm not strong enough to hunt yet. I return to take my place next to Katniss. Shortly after the anthem plays, and I watch as the picture of Clove lights the sky and then disappears. I'm not surprised. If Katniss made it back, then that means somebody else didn't.

I lose track of time, distracted with my own thoughts, but am brought back when – after so long – I catch a small fidgeting on my peripheral vision. I turn my attention on Katniss who is now groaning lightly.

"Katniss? Katniss, can you hear me?"

Her eyes open slowly, a strange expression crosses her face, like she was expecting to see somebody else, but then she smiles

"Peeta," she says in a raspy whisper.

I take a deep breath of relief.

"Hey," I smile back. "Good to see your eyes again."

"How long have I been out?" she asks after clearing her throat.

"Not sure," I answer truthfully. "I woke up yesterday evening and you were laying next to me in a very Scary pool of blood." I shudder at the memory. "I think it's stopped finally, but I wouldn't sit up or anything."

She gingerly lifts her hand to her head to touch the bandage covering her forehead. I reach for a bottle of water and hold it to her lips. She drinks thirstily.

"You're better," she says.

"Much better. Whatever you shot into my arm did the trick. By this morning almost all the swelling in my leg was gone." I should be furious with her right now for having endangered her life like that, but right now the last thing she needs is me yelling at her.

"Did you eat?" she asks tenderly.

"I'm sorry to say I gobbled down three pieces of groosling before I realized it might have to last a while," I say guiltily. "Don't worry, I'm back on a strict diet."

"No, it's good," she says quickly. "You need to eat. I'll go hunting soon."

"Not too soon, all right? Just let me take care of you for a while."

I feed her bites of groosling and make sure she drinks plenty of water. I rub her ice cold feet, trying to return some warmth on to them, and then wrap them securely on my jacket before I tuck the sleeping bag back up to her chin.

"Your boot and sucks are still damp and the weather is not helping much," I say. There's a clap of thunder and we see lightning electrify the sky through an opening in the rocks.

Rain starts dripping through holes in the cave ceiling, and so I build a sort of canopy over her head and upper body by wedging the square of plastic into the rocks above her.

"I wonder what brought on this storm?" I muse. "I mean, who's the target?"

"Cato and Thresh," she says. "Foxface will be in her den somewhere, and Clove… she cut me and then…" her voice trails off.

"I know Clove's dead. I saw it in the sky last night. Did you kill her?" I ask with no accusation in my voice, but just morbid curiosity.

"No. Thresh broke her skull with a rock," she says and shudders lightly.

Well, now that's a surprise. I hadn't heard from Thresh since the moment I saw him run toward the field of tall grass, opposite from the woods and the lake.

"Lucky he didn't catch you, too." I murmur.

"He did," she says, and a strange shade of green – like the time she drained the puss out of my leg – colors her face. "But he let me go."

She sees the confusion on my face and explains how she had blown up the career's supplies of food, how she had been left deaf form one ear, how she watched Rue – her ally – die, how she killed the boy from District 12, and finally, attempted to explain how Thresh had let her go to pay off the debt he felt to her for having been on Rue's side.

"He let you go because he didn't want to owe you anything?" I ask in disbelief.

"Yes. I don't expect you to understand. You've always had enough. But if you lived in the Seam, I wouldn't have to explain," she says gloomily.

"And don't try," I tell her. "Obviously I'm too dim to get it."

"It's like the bread," she muses. "How I never seem to get over owing you for that."

"The bread?" I ask confused "What? From when we were kids? I think we can let that go. I mean, you just brought me back from the dead."

"But you didn't know me," she insists. "We had never even spoken. Besides, it's the first gift that's always the hardest to pay back. I wouldn't even have been here to do it if you hadn't helped me then" She's silent for a moment but then asks "Why did you, anyway?"

"Why? You know why," I say. If it's not obvious by now that I'm in love with her, then I don't know how else to prove it. She shakes her head lightly. "Haymitch said you it would take a lot of convincing," I muse aloud.

"Haymitch?" she asks confused. "What's he got to do with it?"

"Nothing," I say. It's no use trying to explain right now. "So, Cato and thresh, huh?" I change the subject. "I guess it's too much to hope that they'll simultaneously destroy each other?"

"I think we would like Thresh," she says sounding upset. "I think he'd be our friend back in District 12."

"Then let's hope Cato kill him, so we won't have to," I say grimly.

Tears start to fill her eyes.

"What is it?" I ask in concern. "Are you in a lot of pain?"

"I want to go home, Peeta," she says, and I understand that it's not the physical pain that's afflicting her.

"You will. I promise," I say and bend over to give her a kiss. One way or the other I'll make sure she makes it home.

"I want to go home now."

"Tell you what. You go back to sleep and dream of home. And you'll be there for real before you know it. Okay?"

"Okay," she whispers and a tear escapes her eyes. "Wake me to keep watch."

"I'm good and rested, thanks to you and Haymitch. Besides, who knows how long this will last?" Who know how long I'll be able to watch over you. Who knows how long I have with you.

I let her sleep through the day, but eventually I have to wake her up because the water is starting to drip on her… and also because I'm starving and I don't want to eat alone.

There's not much left. Two pieces of groosling, a small mishmash of roots, and a handful of dried fruit.

"Should we try and ration it?" I ask.

"No, let's just finish it. The groosling's getting old anyway, and the last thing we need is to get sick off spoiled food," she says dividing the food into two equal piles.

We eat slowly, but we're both so hungry we're done in just a few minutes.

"Tomorrow's a hunting day," she announces.

"I won't be much help with that," I say glumly. "I've never hunted before."

"I'll kill and you cook. And you can always gather."

"I wish there was some sort of bread bush out there."

"The bread they sent me from District eleven was still warm," she sighs. "Here, chew these." She hands me a couple of mint leaves and pops a few in her own mouth.

"Where did Thresh go?" she wonders after the anthem played without casualties. "I mean, what's on the far side of the circle?"

"A field. As far as you can see it's full of grasses as high as my shoulders. I don't know, maybe some of them are grain. There are patches of different colors. But there are no paths."

"I bet some of them _are_ grain. I bet Thresh knows which one, too. Did you go in there?"

"No, nobody really wanted to track Thresh down in that grass. It has a sinister feeling to it. Every time I look at that field all I can think of are hidden things. Sakes and rabid animals, and quicksand," I say. "There could be anything in there."

"Maybe there's a bread bush in that field," she says after a long silence. "Maybe that's why Thresh looks better fed now than when we started the Games."

"Either that or he's got very generous sponsors," I say. I would put good money on Thresh if I were them. "I wonder what we'd have to do to get Haymitch to send us some bread," I muse.

She reaches for my hand.

"Well, he probably used up a lot of resources helping me knock you out," she says impishly.

"Yeah, about that," I say entwining my fingers with hers. "Don't try something like that again."

"Or what?" she challenges.

"Or… or…" I can't come up with anything good. "Just give me a minute."

"What's the problem?" she asks with a grin.

"The problem is we're both still alive. Which only reinforces the idea in your mind that you did the right thing," I answer her.

"I did do the right thing"' she says.

"No! Just don't Katniss!" I say angrily. "Don't die for me. You won't be doing me any favors. All right?"

"Maybe I did it for myself, Peeta, did you ever think of that?" she snaps. "Maybe you aren't the only one who… who worries about…what it would be like if…" she trails off staring down.

"If what, Katniss?" I say softly, lifting her chin up so that I can stare into her eyes.

"That's exactly the kind of topic Haymitch told me to stay clear of," she mumbles.

"Then I'll just have to fill in the blanks myself," I whisper and lean in to her.

She doesn't pull back. Her warm, soft lips move with mine in strange patterns. My hear starts hammering almost painfully against my chest. My breathing is becoming faster and hollow, and so is hers. My fingers braid themselves in her hair, while hers gently caresses the back of my neck. I pull back to catch my breath and realize with some annoyance that her wound has opened again. I kiss the tip of her nose lightly and untangle my fingers off her hair.

"I think your wound is bleeding again," I whisper. "Come on, lie down, it's bedtime anyway."

In a way I'm glad for the interruption; I'm just a guy after all, and the fact that I'm desperately in love with her doesn't help. This sort of stuff is too private, and I know the Capital got a good look. Maybe if they weren't watching…

She puts on her socks and gives me back my jacket. The night is so cold that it reaches my bones. She wants to take the first watch, but I won't agree to that unless she's in the bag, too. As we settle in, I pull her head down to use my arm as a pillow, while my other arm rests protectively over her. For a while I marvel at how nature has been created so perfectly balanced. At how the shape of her slender body fits perfectly into the shape of mine…like two puzzle pieces. I pull her closer against my chest, resting my chin on her head, and with the reassuring warmth emanating from her body I slowly drift off into sleep.


	9. Destiny

**Thanks to all those of you who have reviewed this story so far! Hope you enjoy this chp. Sorry it took me so long to update. Sadly I do not own the Hunger Games…I wish I did though; such an awesome book!!**

*****

*****

Katniss wakes me up so that I can take the second watch.

"Tomorrow, when it's dry, I'll find us a place so high up in the threes we can both sleep in place," she promises as she drifts off.

But tomorrow arrives and the weather is not improving. The storm continues as though the Gamemakers are intent on washing us all away. The thunder is so powerful it seems to shake the ground.

"Maybe I should go out to scavenge some roots or something," I say. "We need food."

"No. It's pointless to go out now. You won't be able to see three feet in front of your face. You'll just get soaked for no reason," she points out.

I know she's right, but the knowing in our stomachs is becoming painful.

The day drags on turning into evening and there's no break in the weather. Haymitch is our only hope now.

"Peeta," Katniss says after a long silence. "You said at the interview you'd had a crush on me forever. When did forever start?"

I'm a little startled by her sudden curiosity, but answer her truthfully.

"Oh, let's see. I guess the first day of school," I say and vivid memories flash before my eyes. "We were five," I tell her. "You had on a red plaid dress and your hair… it was in two braids instead of one. My father pointed you out when we were waiting to line up."

"Your father?" she asks surprised. "Why?"

"He said, 'See that little girl? I wanted to marry her mother, but she ran off with a coal miner,'" I recall.

"What? You're making that up!" she exclaims with wide eyes.

"No, true story," I assure her. "And I said, 'A coal miner? Why did she want a coal miner if she could've had you?' And he said, 'Because when he sings…even the birds stop to listen.'"

"That's true," she agrees with distant eyes. "They do. I mean they did," she corrects herself.

"So that day," I continue with my story, "in music assembly, the teacher asked who knew the valley song. Your hand shot right up in the air. She stood you up on a stool and had you sing it for us. And I swear," I say remembering the day my life was fated to this girls will, "every bird outside the windows fell silent."

"Oh, please," she laughs, her face taking a soft pink tone.

"No, it happened," I tell her looking into her eyes. "And right when the song ended, I knew – just like your mother – I was a goner. Then for the next eleven years, I tried to work up the nerve to talk to you." _Damn myself to the deepest pits of hell for having wasted all that precious time._

"Without success," she adds.

"Without success," I agree. "So in a way, my name being drawn in the reaping was a real piece of luck."

I watch her face carefully as her eyes stare into nothing in particular; her expression is a little bemused.

"You have a…" she struggles for the right words, "remarkable memory," she says hesitantly.

"I remember everything about you," I tell her, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "You're the one who wasn't paying attention."

"I am now."

"Well, I don't have much competition here," I point out. I mean, if you had to choose between snuggling with someone who intends to kill you in a sadistic way, and someone who would give his life for you…

"You don't have much competition anywhere," she whispers tenderly and leans toward me.

Our lips have just barely touched when a clunk outside makes us jump. I peer through the rocks and childishly "Whoop!" at the sight of a basket attached to a silver parachute. I reach out for it and then hand it to Katniss. She rips it open at once and my mouth waters at its contents – fresh rolls, goat cheese, apples, and lamb stew on wild rice.

"I guess Haymitch finally got tired of watching us starve," I joke.

"I guess so," says Katniss without looking up from the basket.

"We better take it slowly on that stew," I say though I want to stuff it all in my mouth right now. "Remember the first night on the train? The rich food make made me sick and I wasn't even starving then."

"You're right," she says a little glumly. "And I could just inhale the whole thing!'

I laugh at that, but I understand exactly what she means. So we ration everything; we each have a roll, half an apple, and an egg-size serving of stew and rice.

"I want more," Katniss says pleadingly once we're done.

"Me, too," I say. "Tell you what. We wait an hour, if it stays down, then we get another serving."

"Agreed," she says, but then sighs. "It's going to be a long hour."

"Maybe not that long," I say innocently. "What was that you were saying just before the food arrived? Something about me… no competition…best thing that ever happened to you…"

I don't remember that last part," she says blushing.

"Oh, that's right," I laugh. "That's what_** I**_ was thinking. Scoot over, I'm freezing."

She makes room for me in the sleeping bag.

We lean back against the cave wall, her head resting on my shoulder. I wrap my arms tightly around her.

"So, since we were five, you never even noticed any girls?" she asks.

"No, I noticed just about every girl," I say remembering the many pretty girls that caught my eye, "but none of them made a lasting impression but you."

"I'm sure that would thrill your parents, you liking a girl from the Seam," she says sarcastically.

"Hardly. But I could care less," I assure her. "Anyway, if we make it back, you won't be a girl from the Seam, you'll be a girl from the Victor's Village."

She's silent for a minute but the suddenly her eyes widen. "But then, our only neighbor will be Haymitch!" she says disturbed.

"Ah, that'll be nice," I laugh, tightening my arms around her. "You and me and Haymitch." – _more importantly you and me_ – "Very cozy. Picnics, birthdays, long winter nights the fire retelling old Hunger Game tales."

"I told you, he hates me!" she says laughing now, too.

"Only sometimes," I tell her. "When he's sober, I've never heard him say one negative thing about you." Haymitch can be accused of being many things, but I respect him; he knows strength and courage when he sees it and he values it. And so, naturally, he values Katniss very much. Also, it's not completely his fault he turned into his sour self – I mean, who can blame him after his share of hell he went through when he was a contestant in the hunger games? …and then…training all those tributes just to watch them die in such a gruesome ways… and the nightmares that must invade his sleep every too often…

"He's never sober!" she objects.

"That's right," I chuckle. "Who am I thinking of? Oh, I know. It's Cinna who likes you. But that's mainly because you didn't try to run when he set you on fire," I laugh. "On the other hand, Haymitch… well, if I were you, I'd avoid Haymitch completely. He hates you."

"I thought you said I was his favorite," she says confused.

"He hates me more," I point out with a fake solemn expression, but then add "I don't think people in general are his sort of thing" with a grin. Again, who can blame him...?

"How do you think he did it?" she asks suddenly.

"Who?" I ask confused by her tone. "Did what?"

"Haymitch. How do you think he won the games?"

I know what she means; Haymitch is no physical wonder like Cato or Thresh. He's not so handsome that sponsors will line up to give you gifts. And he's so grouchy I doubt anyone teamed up with him.

"He outsmarted the others."

She nods and drops the conversation. About half an hour later Katniss decides to eat again and I'm too hungry myself to object. The anthem plays while we're serving a portion of lamb stew. I press my eyes against a crack in the rocks to watch the sky.

"The wont be anything to see tonight," Katniss says. " Nothing's happened or we would've heard a cannon."

She's wrong.

"Katniss," I say quietly.

"What? Should we split up another roll, too?" she asks distracted by the food.

"Katniss," I say again, but she interrupts before I can go on.

"I'm going to split one. But I'll save the cheese for tomorrow," she says and then looks up. "What?" she asks when she finds me staring blankly at her.

"Thresh is dead."

It takes her a moment to process that.

"It can't be…" Her whisper trails off.

"They must have fired the cannon during the thunder and we missed it," I say.

"Are you sure?" she asks shaking her head lightly. "I mean, it's pouring buckets out there. I don't know how you can see anything." She pushes me lightly away from the rocks and looks through the gap for a few seconds before she slumps down against the rocks. Her expression is not pained, but something close enough.

"Are you all right?" I ask lightly.

She shrugs but then cups her elbows in her hands, hugging them close to her body.

"It's just…" she struggles for words, "if we didn't win…I wanted Thresh to. Because he let me go. And because of Rue."

"Yeah, I know," I say solemnly. "But this means we're one step closer to District 12." I nudge the plate of food into her hands. "Eat. It's still warm."

She takes a bite of the stew and swallows slowly. "It also means Cato will be back hunting us."

"And he's got supplies again."

"He'll be wounded, I bet."

"What makes you say that?" I wonder.

"Because Thresh would've never gone down without a fight. He's strong, I mean, he was, "she corrects herself. "And they were in his territory."

"Good," I say. "The more wounded Cato is the better. I wonder how Foxface is making out."

"Oh, she's fine," Katniss says. "Probably be easier to catch Cato than her."

"Maybe they'll catch each other," I fantasize, "and we can just go home. But we better be extra careful about the watches. I dozed off a few times," I admit.

"Me, too. But not tonight."

We finish our food in silence and then I offer to take the first watch. She burrows down in the sleeping bag next to me, pulling her hood up. I tighten my arms around her and rest my cheek lightly on her head, eyes alert for any intruder that might take advantage of the dark night.


	10. First kill

I lay in the sleeping bag with Katniss for hours, just staring at the cave door and running my fingers through Katniss's hair. Hunger eventually takes over, my stomach grumbles and my mouth waters at the thought of the goat cheese and apples. I carefully remove my arm from under Katniss's head, trying to move as little as possible so as not to wake her. I look through the food basket until I find what I want – a bread roll, cheese, and an apple. Hopefully Katniss won't mind I ate without her. I would wake her up, but she looks so peaceful and warm… she can eat when she wakes up.

I spread the cheese on the roll, cut the apple in small slices and place them on top of the roll. The exquisite flavor fills my mouth, and I all but moan at the sensation. How long has it been since we last ate the portion of lamb stew? I guess I lost track of time. I mean, how can I not when the person I love the most in this cruel world was in my arms? Too aware of her steady warm breath blowing lightly against my neck through her slightly parted lips, her hand laying limply on my chest, the warmth emanating from her body…yeah, I got distracted.

I eat the roll slowly, enjoying each bite. I decide is time to wake Katniss up. She opens her eyes slowly, and then fixes them on the half bread roll on my hand.

"Don't be mad," I tell her. "I had to eat again. Here's your half."

"Oh, good," she says and then takes a huge bite. "Mm."

"We make goat cheese and apple tart at the bakery," I say.

"Bet that's expensive," she says.

"To expensive for my family to eat. Unless it's gone very stale. Of course, practically everything we eat is stale," I say glumly. I pull the sleeping bag up and around me, and let unconsciousness take me under.

A slight shake on my shoulder wakes me up. I open my eyes slowly and find Katniss's lovely face inches away from mine. I cup her face in my hands and pull her down for a kiss. She doesn't resist and her soft, warm lips move with mine. I could kiss her all day, but unfortunately I need to breathe, and so does Katniss. She pulls back slowly, almost unwillingly, I think, to catch her breath.

"We're wasting hunting time," she says.

"I wouldn't it call it wasting," I grin. I stretch my arms and sit up. "So do we hunt on empty stomachs to give us an edge?"

"Not us," she says. "We stuff ourselves to give us staying power."

I like that idea. "Count me in," I say.

She divides all the food in half. "All this?" I ask.

"We'll earn it back today," Katniss says with a confident voice, and digs in. after a minute she g

Ives up on the fork and uses her hands. "I can feel Effie Trinket shuddering at my manners," Katniss chuckles.

"Hey, Effie, watch this," I call out. I toss my fork over my shoulder and lick my plate clean, making loud, satisfying sounds. When I'm done I blow out a kiss in a general direction to her. "We miss you, Effie!"

Katniss covers my mouth before I can say anything else, laughing. "Stop!" she says still laughing. "Cato could be right outside our cave."

I grab her hand away from my mouth. "What do I care? I've got you to protect me now," I say and pull her to me for a kiss.

"Come on," Katniss complains and tries to pull away from my grasp. I pull her to me again and give her another kiss. She laughs, and kisses me back.

Once we're packed up and outside our cave, our moods shift to serious. Though the day is sunny and warm, we both sense we're _really_ back in the games. Katniss hands me a knife and I slip it into my belt.

"He'll be hunting us by now," I say. "Cato isn't one to wait for his prey to wander by."

"If he's wounded –"

"It won't matter," I interrupt her. "If he can move, he's coming."

With all the rain, the stream has overrun its banks by several feet on either side. We stop there to replenish our water. Katniss checks the snares he left there days ago, but she comes up empty. Not a big surprise with this weather I guess.

"If we want food, we better head back up to my old hunting grounds," Katniss says.

"Your call," I say. "Just tell me what you need me to do."

"Keep an eye out," she says. "Stay on the rocks as much as possible, no sense in leaving him tracks to follow. And listen for both of us."

Oh, yeah. Katniss's ear. I forgot about that.

We walk in silence for a long time, but then I notice Katniss staring at me.

"What?" I ask a little self conscious.

"You've got to move more quietly," she says. "Forget about Cato, you're chasing off every rabbit in a ten-mile radius."

"Really?" I didn't notice I was making noise. "Sorry, I didn't know."

We start walking again. I try to make as little noise as I can…but apparently it's not enough.

"Can you take your boots off?" Katniss suggests.

"Here?" Walking barefooted in the woods doesn't sound very safe…

"Yes," she says, and she sounds impatient. "I will, too. That way we'll both be quieter."

Yeah right, I think sourly to myself, like _she_ is making any noise to start with.

We both stripp off our boots and socks, and though I make my best effort to not make much noise, Katniss keeps looking at me from the corner of her eye in disapproval. _Well, crap, I really suck at this. Way to impress a girl. _

It takes hours to reach her old camp, and she doesn't shoot anything. And it is all my fault. Mine and my noisy feet's.

"Katniss," I say. "We need to split up. I know I'm chasing away the game."

"Only because your leg's hurt," she says trying to make me feel better but not succeeding.

"I know," I say playing along. "So why don't you go on? Show me some plants to gather and that way we'll both be useful."

"Not if Cato comes and kills you."

I laugh at the thought, though it's not one bit funny, but I have to get Katniss to trust me. "Look, I can handle Cato," I say. If I ever had a chance against him, it's gone now. "I fought him before, didn't I?"

"What if you climbed up a tree and acted as a lookout while I haunted?" she offers making it sound like a very important job. But I'm not stupid.

"What if you show me what's edible here and go get us some meat?" I say in the same tone she used. "Just don't go far, in case you need help."

She sighs in defeat and shows me some roots to dig. She then teaches me a bird whistle – a simple two-note whistle. Fortunately, I'm good at this at least. She gives me her pack, and heads off.

I start looking for the plants she showed me and for the few I already knew, whistling now and then in response to Katniss's whistle to reassure her I'm alright. I don't have much luck so I decide to venture a little further, following the stream. I find a bush of the berries Katniss brought once. I gather as many as I can, using my shirt as a bag. Once my shirt is full I decide to head back to leave them by the pack. There was still plenty more berries by the stream so I go back to gather some more. Just as I'm on my way to the old camp I hear Katniss calling my name. I think about answering her, but I don't want to risk it when Cato's out there.

And then, just as I walk through a bush, I see Katniss pointing her arrow at me, and then I hear the whistle of the arrow as it tears through the air. I jump back, dropping the berries, and stare at the arrow which is now stuck in a oak trunk right next to me.

"What are you doing?!" she demands angrily before I can say anything. "You're supposed to be here, not running in the woods!"

"I found some berries down by the stream," I say confused by her outburst – I mean, the girl almost killed me for crying out loud. Why is she mad at me?

"I whistled," she says still angry. "Why didn't you whistle back?" she screams at me.

"I didn't hear," I defend myself. "The water's too loud, I guess." I cross over to her and put my hands on her trembling shoulders.

"I thought Cato killed you!" she says almost shouting.

"No, I'm fine." I wrap my arms around her, but she doesn't respond. "Katniss?"

She pushes herself away. "If two people agree on a signal, they stay in range. Because if one of them doesn't answer, they're in trouble, all right?" she spits the word at me.

"All right!" I say as she finally brakes through my patience. After all I am alright. Nothing happened. Besides her almost shooting an arrow through my head, that is.

"All right," she scowls at me, but then her scowl melts away and pain takes its place. "Because that's what happened with Rue, I watched her die!" she turns away from me, goes to the pack and opens a bottle of water. "And you ate without me!" she suddenly says, obviously still not willing to just let it go.

"What? No I didn't."

"Oh, and I suppose the apples ate the cheese," she says sarcastically.

"I don't know what ate the cheese," I say slowly, accentuating each word, trying not to lose my temper, "but it wasn't me. I've been down by the stream collecting berries. Would you care for some?"

She walks over to the berries, still scowling, and scoops up a few, rolling them between her fingers. She stares at them for a moment and then we both jump at the sound of the cannon firing. She turns to me with a horrified expression. A hovercraft appears just a hundred yards or so away.

Crap!

I grab Katniss by the arm, pushing her toward a tree. "Climb! He'll be here in a second. We'll stand a better chance fighting him from above."

She stops me, looking pretty calm. "No, Peeta, she's your kill, not Cato's."

"What?" I ask confused. "I haven't even seen her since the first day. How could I have killed her?"

In answer she hold out the berries.


	11. AUTHORS NOTE PLEASE READ

**Would u guys like me to write HELL IN EARTH from the beginning of the book? I'm planning on doing so after I complete HELL IN EARTH as it is now, but first I need to know that someone is actually going to read it. And I'm also considering writing my own story of Peeta that we didn't see in the book. So tell what you think. ****Thanks****. Bye.**


	12. Chp 12

It takes a while for her to tell me the whole story. How Foxface stole the food from the supply pile before she blew it up, how she would take enough to safety alive, but not enough that anyone would notice it, how she wouldn't question the safety of the berries we were preparing to eat ourselves.

"I wonder how she found us," I say. "My fault, I guess, if I'm as loud as you say."

"And she's very clever, Peeta. Well, she was," she corrects herself. "Until you outfoxed her."

"Not on purpose. Doesn't seem fair somehow. I mean we would have both been dead, too, if she hadn't eaten the berries first." I think about that for a second. "No, of course, we wouldn't. You recognized them, didn't you?"

She nods. "We call it nightlock."

"Even the name sounds deadly," I muse. "I'm sorry, Katniss. I really thought they were the same ones you gathered." I really don't mind the fact that I could have died by eating them, but it's a whole different story for Katniss. How stupid of me to endanger her like that.

"Don't apologize," she says. "It just means we're one step closer, right?"

"I'll get rid of the rest," I say, evading her question. I can't assure her with something so uncertain, like surviving the Hunger Games. I gather up the sheet of blue plastic, careful to trap the berries inside, and walk toward the edge of the woods.

"Wait!" Katniss cries. She picks up a leather pouch, and walks toward me. She fills it with a few handfuls of berries from the plastic in my hands. "If they fooled Foxface, maybe they can fool Cato as well," she explains. "If he's chasing us or something, we can act like we accidentally drop the pouch and if he eats them –"

"Then hello District Twelve," I complete her sentence. She's even cleverer than Foxface.

"That's it," she says, securing the pouch to her belt.

"He'll know where we are now," I say. "If he was anywhere nearby and saw that hovercraft, he'll know we killed her and come after us." That_** I**_ killed her, I correct myself in my mind. It's so ironic. I promised to myself and my father that I wouldn't kill anyone – well, at least not unless it was absolutely necessary, like to defend myself. And I killed Foxface. But Katniss knows she's not my first kill. I know she heard me saying that I would take care of the girl Cato stabbed from the tree she was hiding in. I will never forget the face of the dying girl from District 8. How even in her last breath she cringed away from me in terror when she saw me coming. How I just stood there and waited until she died. I didn't kill her with my own hands, but I might as well have. I stood aside while Cato stabbed her again and again. I guess I can at least say my hands are clean of innocents' blood.

"Let's make a fire," Katniss says suddenly, pulling me out of my reverie. "Right now."

"Are you ready to face him?"

"I'm ready to eat," she says with a half smile on her face. "Better to cook our food while we have a chance. If he knows we're here, he knows. But he also knows there's two of us and probably assumes we were hunting Foxface. That means you're recovered. And the fire means we're not hiding, we're inviting him here. Would you show up?"

"Maybe not," I answer.

I light a fire, a little smug that I was able to coax a blaze out of damp wood. In no time Katniss has the rabbits and squirrel roasting, the roots, wrapped in leaves, baking in the coals. We take turns gathering greens and keeping a careful watch for Cato, but he doesn't honor us with his presence.

When the food's cooked, Katniss packs most of it up, leaving us each a rabbit's leg to eat as we walk.

Katniss wants to climb up a tree and spend the night there, but I resist and for a good reason.

"I can't climb like you, Katniss, especially with my leg, and I don't think I could ever fall asleep fifty feet above the ground," I tell her.

"It's not safe to stay in the open, Peeta," she insists.

"Can't we go back to the cave?" I ask. "It's near water and easy to defend."

She sighs in exasperation, and I'm almost positive she's going to force me up a tree. I wait for the verdict as she thinks it over.

"Sure," she says, reaching up to give me a kiss. "Let's go back to the cave."

"Well, that was easy," I say, relieved I'll be spending the night on solid ground...and with Katniss.

We toss a bunch more wood on the fire. It should be sending off smoke for a few more hours, although we can't expect anything from Cato at this point.

When we reach the stream, we notice the water has dropped considerably and moves at its old leisure pace. Katniss suggests we walk in it, and I happily agree because I'm much quieter in the water than in dry land.

It's a long walk back to the cave though, even going downward. I start regretting having suggested going back to the cave. By the time we reach our destination, our feet are dragging and the sun is touching the horizon. We fill up our water bottles and walk up the slope to our hideout.

Katniss starts setting out our dinner, but although I'm starving, I start dozing off. Katniss half pushes me to the sleeping bag. She tucks the sleeping bag around me, and I take advantage of her closeness and reach up for a kiss. Instead of pulling back, she places her hand delicately on my cheek and leans closer to me. I sight at the feeling of her soft, warm lips against mine and kiss her even deeper, almost roughly. She pulls away slowly, touching her lips to mine one more time, and gently pushes me down. I wouldn't have given up so easily, but my eyelids feel so heavy, I start dozing off again almost as soon as she pulled away. I let my eyes close. I'm almost completely unconscious when she kisses my forehead.

_I have to make it back home_, I think to myself. _For Katniss, I have to make it out of this hell alive._


	13. Chp 13

**Hope I still have some faithful readers. Sorry I haven't written in so long. Stupid school projects took over my life for a while .…but I'm back now….kinda… I'm still a little busy. So pardon my grammar mistakes, if any, 'cause I don't have time to check the spelling. Well, hope you enjoy this short Chp. ^^ ---I'll write again as soon as I can! **

I wake to Katniss shaking of my shoulder. I feel well rested. _Too_ well rested. I sit up with a jerk and look out at the sky. Day already?!?

"I slept the whole night," I say feeling guilty. "That's not fair, Katniss, you should have woken me."

She stretches and nestles down into the bag. "I'll sleep now," she yawns. "Wake me if anything interesting happens." And with that, she nods off almost instantly.

I watch her for a couple of minutes, just staring at her peaceful face, at her breathing evenly coming in and out through her slightly parted lips. I sigh and go sit by the cave's entrance, resting my back against one side and my feet to the other. I let my head rest against the wall, too, and randomly trace patterns with by fingers on the dirt. It's not long before the senseless squiggles connect and turn into Katniss's name. I wipe her name off with my palm, feeling slightly frustrated. I can't let myself attach closer to this girl. I'm only hurting myself. Up until now, I've stubbornly let myself dream that, if we make it, she'll stay with me. But what if she doesn't? What will I do then? I shouldn't let myself dream of such a faulty future; it's not healthy for me.

But what then? It's painful to even think about distancing myself from her now. Is that my only choice then? Enjoy for now, be happy for now and then, _**maybe**_, just maybe, keep being happy if she does stay with me? And if not? Well, I guess I can pathetically watch her from a distance. Again. Back to the basics.

I laugh darkly, humorlessly, at my sick joke. I'm such a masochist. Maybe I should think more positively. I mean, is it really that impossible to believe that she'll decide to spend her future with me? She seems to enjoy my company. She kisses me back. And she did look for me, didn't she? If she didn't care for me, she wouldn't have bothered to find me. So I guess I wasn't being that much of a masochist as much as a pessimist. There's a fair chance that we'll make it back home….and most important even yet, that she'll stay with me.

I smile, satisfied with my conclusion, and keep on alertly with my guard. It feels like just minutes later instead of hours when Katniss wakes up.

"Any sign of our friend?" she asks as she stretches.

I shake my head. "No, he's keeping a disturbingly low profile."

"How long do you think we'll have before the Gamemakers drive us together?"

"Well, Foxface died almost a day ago, so there's been plenty of time for the audience to place bets and get bored," I say. "I guess it could happen at any moment." I feel a chill run up my spine.

"Yeah, have a feeling today's the day," she says. She sits up and looks out the cave's door. "I wonder how they'll do it," she muses.

For that, I have no answer, but I'm pretty sure they'll be creative. I don't say it out loud though. No need to give Katniss Goosebumps, too.

"Well, until they do, no sense in wasting a hunting day. But we should probably eat as much as we can hold just in case we run into trouble," she says.

I pack up our gear while Katniss lays out the food. We then eat, leaving only a pile of rabbit bones.

We head our way down to the stream – or what use to be the stream… Where the heck did the water go?

"Not even a little damp," Katniss whispers as she puts her hand down on the now dry ground. "They must have drained it while we slept." She says. Her voice sounding a little panicked.

_Of course! That's how they'll drive us together! _"The lake," I muse out loud. "That's where they want us to go." That's where they want us to die.

"Maybe the ponds still have some," she says a little hopeful.

"We can check," I say, though I'm sure they're just as bone dry as the stream. After she went through so much to keep me alive, I can't deny anything to this girl. As senseless and pointless as it might be.


	14. Waiting

We walk for hours, just to find what I already knew we would. No water. The pond is just as bone dry as the stream.

"You're right," Katniss says. "They're driving us to the lake." She kneels heavily on the dry floor. "Do you want to go straightaway or wait until the water is taped out," she says sounding defeated.

I hate seeing her like this. I don't like to see her so vulnerable. It's scary to think of her as an easy target. "Let's go now while we've had food and rest," I say, trying to sound sure. "Let's just go end this thing."

She nods, and stands up. She squares her shoulders, and straightens up. _That's more like it_, I think. _My brave Katniss._ I close the inches between us and wrap my arms protectively and tenderly around her.

"Two against one. Should be a piece of cake," I say, sounding more confident than I intended to.

"Next time we eat, it will be in the capital," she says with that same confident tone.

"You bet it will."

We stand there for a couple of minutes, locked in an embrace that feels too much like a goodbye for my taste. The sun shines above us, but the soft breeze has a chilling touch to it. Without a word we break apart and head for the lake.

The walk there is long, but the time seems to be on the Gamemakers' side, for it passes too quickly. By the time we make it to the lake, the sun is already close to the horizon, hurrying to hide behind the trees before the battle begins.

I look around twice, but there's no sign of Cato anywhere. The cornucopia glows with the last rays of the sun, its inside a possible hideout for our last opponent. We slowly circle the cornucopia, careful not to make noise, just in case Cato was smart enough to take advantage of the massive cornucopia. It's empty.

With nothing better to do, we cross to the lake and fill our canteens.

"We don't want to fight him after dark," says Katniss frowning at the shrinking sun. "There's only the one pair of glasses."

"Maybe that's what he's waiting for," I muse as I carefully squeeze a drop of iodine into the water. "What do you want to do?" I ask her. "Go back to the cave?"

It doesn't sound very encouraging to walk all the way over to the cave, but staying out here in the open doesn't sound very inviting either.

"Either that or find a tree," she says. "But let's give him another half an hour or so. Then we'll take cover."

So we sit by the lake, our eyes alert on our surroundings, full on the open. There's no point in hiding now. Either way we'll still have to face him. There's no other option for neither side.

I can hear the mockingjays rustling the trees' leaves, singing back and forth to each other. Katniss hears them, too. She opens her mouth and sings a four note song. The mockingjays fall silent for a few seconds, but then they're all singing, mimicking Katniss's tune. The melody is ridiculously sweet and, somehow, inspiring. It fills the air, echoing all around us. For a long second I'm taken back in time, and suddenly I'm a little boy again, hypnotized by her voice.

"Just like your father," I muse out loud. And just like his mother I can't escape her, I don't _want_ to.

She touches a golden pin in her shirt, gone unnoticed by me until now. "That's Rue's song," she whispers. "I think they remember it."

She closes her eyes, probably concentrating in the sweet melody. I listen, too. Then, something begins to disrupt the music. The notes start cutting in unexpected places, and then they're not singing anymore, but shrieking cries of alarm.

We get on our feet, tensing for what's coming. I wield my knife while Katniss readies her bow. And then Cato smashes through the trees, running like a charging bull toward us. He has no visible weapon. His hands are empty, but he runs toward us with no hesitance. Katniss fires the first arrow, Cato the target, but instead of penetrating his chest, it falls aside as if it had hit a wall instead of a human being.

_Crap!_

"He's got some kind of body armor!" Katniss shouts shocked.

Cato is upon us, but instead of stopping to fight us, he charges through us, not even bothering to throw a backward glance. He's panting though, and the look on his face is one I've never seen on him before – fear.

He's been running for a long time, that's immediately obvious, but not toward us. With horror I realize he's isn't the hunter this time. He is the pray. And, now, so are we.

_You have got to be freaking kidding me!_ I think as I turn to make a run for it.

The gamemakers have definitely outdone themselves this time.

_No!_


	15. Not over Yet

_What the hell?! _I think as I turn and run toward my only chance of salvation. I bet the Capital is having the time of their lives right now. I mean, how often do you get to see nine mutant oversized wolves chasing tree teenagers? _Wow. Now there's something you don't see every day_, I think sourly as I run as fast as I ever have.

I look ahead at Katniss making sure she's okay – or better said: making sure she's alive. She's already reached the cornucopia, but instead of immediately climbing up, she wastes precious time to look back at me.

"Go, Katniss! Go!" I scream at the top of my lungs, signaling with my hand for her to climb.

She begins climbing, but I can see she's having some difficulty. I abuse my much hampered leg even further, gasping at the sharp pain in my muscles when I raise my speed. I risk a look back at the monsters.

"_Crap!"_ I mutter. They're too close! I'm only a few feet away from the cornucopia now, so I take advantage of my speed leverage and throw myself against its hard walls, hoping to jump high enough as to get away from the mutts. But they're faster than me. I feel a razor sharp pain as one of the mutt's claws slashes through the skin and muscle of my calf. I cry out in pain despite my best efforts not to.

"Climb!" Katniss yells, her eyes bulging.

She shoots an arrow in my direction and, even though I know it's not meant for me, I duck my head instinctively. I hear the arrow whoosh through the air and then a strangled yelp from the mutt below me. With all my effort I make it to Katniss's feet. She reaches out for me, grabbing my arm and pulls me along.

I can see Cato now. He's doubled over a few feet behind Katniss, gasping for air.

"Can they climb it?" he manages to gasp between coughs.

"What?" Katniss shouts at him, as she wasn't paying attention to him.

"He said, 'Can they climb it?'" I tell her.

Katniss looks down at the mutts. But then a strange look comes to her face – not scared, but shocked…horrified. I follow her gaze, but all I see is the mutts trying to reach us. I look back at Katniss who seems to have frozen in place.

"Katniss?"

A shriek escapes her lips, and I can see the arrow shaking in her trembling hands. She fires the arrow and I hear another strangled yelp.

"Katniss?" I say again, louder, as I get a grip of her arm.

Her lips tremble and her face turns pale.

"It's her!" she manages to choke out.

"Who?" I ask, mystified.

Her head snaps from side to side, her eyes urgently searching for something I can't imagine.

With a grunt of both exertion and pain I pull myself up. "What is it, Katniss?" I ask her shaking her shoulder.

"It's them," she whispers horrified. "It's all of them. The others. Rue and Foxface and…." She swallows loudly, "all the other tributes."

I look down at them again, and feel stupid for not having realized this sooner. "What did they do to them?" I gasp. "You don't think…those could be their real eyes?" I say, disgusted at the thought of the Tributes eyeless bodies.

The mutts begin throwing themselves at the horn, and before I can pull myself out of their reach one grabs a hold of my injured leg with sharp teeth and pulls down. I cry out.

Katniss grabs a tighter hold of me, refusing to let go.

"Kill it, Peeta! Kill it!" she shouts.

I grab my knife tighter and slash the mutt's muzzle. It works. The mutt lets go of me, and Katniss pulls me up again. We drag ourselves toward the top of the horn.

For a second too long I forget who waits at the top of the horn, and that's why I don't see Cato coming toward me. With a rough unexpected jerk, he pulls me away from Katniss, and toward him. Before I can pull away or defend myself, he wraps his arm around my neck, imprisoning me in an unbreakable headlock.

Katniss turns around, the bow ready in her hand. She looks back and forth between us, an unconfident look in her face.

My air supply is cut short with a flex of his muscles, and I claw uselessly at his arm, trying to break free. I can feel warm blood flowing freely from the gash in my leg. I try to stop it with one hand while trying to pull Cato's arm away from me with the other. My lungs begin to panic with the absence of air, and so do I.

"Shoot me and he goes down with me," Cato says. His voice sounds far away.

I look at Katniss who seems torn with an internal dilemma. She knows he's right. If she shoots him, he'll pull me along. I want to tell her to do it – if sacrificing myself means she can survive, then so be it – but all that comes out of my mouth is a breathless gasp.

Black spots begin to cloud my vision, but before I can become unconscious, an idea occurs to me.

It takes all my remaining strength, but I manage to raise my finger and draw an X on the back of Cato's hand.

She realizes what I mean and so does Cato, but he's too late. The arrow hits Cato's hand and he lets go of me. I slam by body against him, pushing him toward the edge. Of course, by doing so, I lose balance, too. But before I can fall over, Katniss grabs hold of my arm, pulling me toward her and away from the mutts. Cato's not so fortunate though. I watch as he plummets down to the ground, clawing uselessly at the air, searching for something to grab hold of. A sharp gasp escapes his lips as he hits the ground. I watch horrified as the mutts charge toward him.

We grab hold of each other, waiting for the cannon to go off, signaling his death. But nothing happens. All I can hear is the vicious snarls of the mutts.

_No! _How stupid of me to think it would be over so easy. Of course it's not over. This is the grand finale. They expect something more exciting than the mutts doing us a favor.

They want to see blood, yes, but they want _us_ to draw it.

_Of course, it's not over._


	16. AUTHOR'S NOTE!

**Thanks a million to all of you guys! I feel so inspired every time I read your reviews. Special thanks to all of you who have commented each chapter – You know who you are ^_^**

**I'll try to write more often – though it can't be too often :/ because…well, you know how high school is.**

**Anywhoo….iF you have any comments or suggestions you know what to do ---- if you have any ideas for future chapters, don't be shy, send them over and if I like them I'll include them in as the story goes (all credit going to whoever the idea belongs to, of course) **

**Again, thank you all very, very, **_**very**_** much for remaining loyal to HELL IN EARTH! :D **

**---The Hunger Games does NOT belong to me….sadly. *sigh***

* * *

**----And to my faithful reader _silkoverglass_**** (and #1 reviewer) - thanks so much for ur comments! =D.....and to answer ur question, no, i'm not a cullen lol.....so happy that you enjoy HELL IN EARTH ^.^**


	17. When will it end?

The sun is gone. The last rays have faded from the sky. Cato should be dead by now, but he's not.

When will it end? When?

I can hear the mutts growling and snarling as they make a chew toy out of Cato.

I actually pity him now. Wow. Never thought I would even think that.

The growling moves around and inside the cornucopia, under us now.

I think it's been an hour – maybe more – since he fell. He would've been dead by now, but whatever sort of body shield he's wearing is preventing the mutts from eating him alive.

I can hear him moaning in pain as they chew the unprotected parts of his body. Katniss hears him, too. She shudders now and then when he moans. It's very cold now, too, so that's not helping much. The scorching metal the cornucopia is made of is now ice cold.

The cold I can handle, but my leg in the other hand isn't making much progress. Even though I have my hand pressed against the gash, the blood flows freely, leaving a warm trail as it runs down my ankle, pooling in my shoe. As the night progresses I feel weaker and weaker. I don't really feel pain though, just an uncomfortable numbness in my entire leg. I don't tell Katniss this, because I don't want to worry her, but of course I don't fool her.

She takes off her jacket, removes her shirt – I feel so weak I can't even really appreciate how beautiful her bare skin looks in the pale light of the moon – and then zips the jacket back on.

She makes me lie down, and then checks my injured leg for a few seconds. She rips a sleeve off her shirt, wraps it twice around my leg, above the gash, but under my knee, and then ties a knot. She takes her last arrow and secures it in the knot, twisting it very tightly. I clench my teeth together to prevent from screaming.

"Don't go to sleep," she whispers to me in a concerned voice.

"Are you cold?" I ask, though I know she must be freezing.

I unzip my jacket and she presses tightly against me as I fasten it around her. I feel much better with the little extra heat. I wrap my arms tightly around her – well, as tight as I can, anyway.

"Cato may win this thing yet," she murmurs after a few minutes of silence.

"Don't you believe it," I tell her firmly, pulling her hood up.

We lay there, shuddering harder as the temperature drops even further. By this point Cato's moans just add to that torture. No one deserves to suffer so much, and so long. Not one of us deserved to suffer so much. Yet here we are. Freezing to death. Freezing _and_ bleeding to death in my case and in Cato's. How is any of this fair? How does any of this bring pleasure and excitement to all those monsters watching us back in the Capital?

"Why don't they just kill him?" Katniss whispers as if reading my thoughts.

"You know why," I say, and pull her closer to me.

After a while my eyelids feel too heavy, and my whole body just screams for some rest. I jump startled every time I begin dozing off and Katniss yells my name, each time louder. I take a deep breath and fight against sleep. Against death. Not for me, but for her. If it were me, I would have given up already. It's just so tempting to just close my eyes and never open them again. But I must fight. I can't leave her alone while the Game is still on. As strong as she is, I know she'll feel scared if I leave her.

I know it must seem like the time has stopped for her. That's how it feels like to me. So I begin pointing the moon to her every so often, so that she sees the progress it makes on the sky. So that she know that time is passing, and this will hopefully be over soon. Hopefully.

She dozes off, and it's so tempting to let my eyes close, too, but I can't while she's so vulnerable like this. I don't wake her up either. She deserves to escape this cruel reality even if just for a little while.

Finally the first rays of sunlight begin to illuminate the sky.

"Wake up," I whisper in her ear. "It's morning."

She open her eyes and look up the sky for a couple of seconds before she look at me. Her forehead creases in concern and despair as soon as she sees me.

"That bad, huh?" I ask her in a raspy voice. I clear my throat.

"Everything is going to be okay," she says in response, evading my question.

She presses her ear against the horn.

"I think he's closer now," I say. "Katniss, can you shoot him?"

She deliberates for a moment.

"My last arrow is in your tourniquet."

"Make it count," I whisper in her ear and then let her go.

She frees the arrow, tying the tourniquet back as soon as she frees it.

She crawls to the edge of the horn. I grab her ankle, just in case.

I hear the whoosh of the arrow as it rips through the air, and finally the sickening muted _thud _as it hits Cato.

"Did you get him?"

The cannon fires then and I need no other answer.

The cannon fired.

"Then we won, Katniss," I say in a hollow voice. I can't believe it. We won. We made it. Together.

"Hurray for us," she says in the most miserable tone.

A hole opens in the ground, and the mutts jump into it, disappearing as the camouflaged door to the hole closes above them.

We wait for a hovercraft to take Cato's body away – or what's left of him, anyway – but nothing happens.

"Hey!" I shout into the air. "What going on?"

The only sound is that of the birds and the soft whispering of the breeze.

"Maybe it's the body," I say. "Maybe we have to move away from it." What else can it be?

"Okay," Katniss says after a minute. "Think you can make it to the lake?"

Not really, I think, but what other choice do I have? "Think I better try."

We inch down the side of the horn as far as possible. She jumps to the ground.

_Oh-oh, _I think, _that's gonna be painful_. I take a deep breath and let myself slide down the horn. Even though Katniss supports must of my weight as I fall, I can't help but gasp when my bad leg touches the ground.

"Are you okay?" she asks, her eyes wide, unsure of what to do to help.

"Fine," I gasp. "Just give me a sec."

I take a deep breath. I can do this, I tell myself. I can do this.

"Okay," I whisper. "Let's go."

Somehow we make it to the lake, and although she's half carrying me, the pain in my leg is still great. Not as bad as when she found me that day in the mud, but definitely bad enough to make my head spin.

She helps me down and then scoops up a handful of water for me, and then one for herself.

A mockingjay gives a long, low whistle, and a hovercraft materializes above the cornucopia. In the next second Cato's body is lifted through the air and into the hovercraft.

I look at Katniss and her eyes are filled with tears of happiness, of relief that this is finally over.

Home. Home. Finally.

The hovercraft disappears. We wait for the second Hovercraft that will take away from this hell, but again, nothing happens.

"What are they waiting for?" I wonder.

"I don't know," Katniss says staring intently up at the sky.

She turns to me, and suddenly she's on her feet.

"What are you doing?"

She looks around, searching for something, but as she stoops to pick up something, Claudius Temple smith's voice booms in the arena.

"Greetings to the final contestants of the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games. The earlier revision has been revoked," he says.

_What?_

"Closer examination of the rule book has disclosed that only one winner may be allowed."

_No. No. This is not happening. This can't be happening!_

"Good luck and may the odds be ever in your favor."

We stand there, frozen, trying to make sense of what just happened.

But it isn't that much of a shocker. Of course they would do this. It's their job.

"If you think about it, it's not that surprising," I say, using my last bits of energy to get up.

I know exactly what must be done.


	18. The winners

I walk toward her as fast as my injured leg allows me to – which is not fast at all. Each step requires all my concentration, and each step is more painful than the last.

I look down to pull my knife out from my belt – the stupid thing doesn't make it any easier to walk; the blade keeps pressing against my leg, which only adds to the pain. With as much force as I can, I throw it out at the lake.

I look up to find Katniss pointing her arrow straight at me.

I raise my eyebrows instinctively. Did she read my mind?

Her eyes flicker to my empty hand and then to the lake behind me. She then looks back at me and the expression on her face can only be chagrin. She drops her bow and takes a step back, her face turning a shade darker.

"No," I reassure her. "Do it."

I pick up the bow and place it back in her hands.

"I can't," she says shaking her head fiercely. "I won't."

"Do it," I tell her again. "Before they send those mutts back or something. I don't want o die like Cato," I shudder at the thought.

"The you shoot me," she says almost shouting, shoving the weapon back at me. "You shoot me and go home and live with it!"

I can see fresh tears starting to pool in her eyes.

I have to swallow before I can speak again.

"You know I can't," I say hoarsely.

Her face is set in a stubborn expression and I can see that nothing I can say is going to change her mind. "Fine, I'll go first anyway." I drop the bow and lean down to untie the bandage off my leg. The blood flows freely as soon as I loosen the bandage.

"No! You can't kill yourself," she says and fall to her knees, pushing my feeble hands out of the way, and plasters the bandage back onto my wound.

"Katniss," I say almost rolling my eyes – can't she see that I would rather die a thousand times then live without her? "It's what I want."

"You're not leaving me here alone," she says in a determined tone.

"Listen," I begin, pulling her back up. "We both know they have to have a victor. It can only be _one_ of us. Please," I beg her, "take it. For me. I love you, Katniss. My life belongs to you – I can't live without you. Life would have no meaning for me if you didn't exist. There would be no point to living. But you're strong – stronger than me – you can do this. You can go on. You can move on."

I stare intently into her eyes, trying to decipher her thoughts, but her eyes seem distant, far away from the present.

"Katniss?"

Her eyes refocus on mine again, and they seem wild. Her fingers reach down to her pouch, and they tremble as she unties its opening.

"No," I say firmly, stopping her hands. "I won't let you."

"Trust me," she whispers staring intently into my eyes, as if trying to communicate something vital.

I think it over for a while, holding her gaze, but then let go of her.

She turns my hand over and pours a few spoonfuls of berries into my palm, and then fills her own.

"On the count of three?" she asks.

This is it, I think. I guess this is the best way to end it. Clean. Fast. No blood drawn out – well except for mine, but that's different.

I lean down and touch my lips to hers, slowly, gently.

"The count of three," I whisper.

We turn the opposite way, our backs pressed together, our empty hands locked tight.

"Hold them out," I say. My voice sounds strangled. "I want everyone to see." To see what they've done to us. They won't feel guilty, I'm sure, but at least they'll know they're responsible for the deaths of many innocent lives. They'll know just the kind of monsters they are.

She gives my hand a gentle squeeze as a signal, as a goodbye, and we begin counting.

"One."

Finally free.

"Two."

It'll finally end.

"Three."

But I'll miss her so much.

I lift my hand to my mouth, staring up at the blue sky one last time. The berries have just touched my tongue when the trumpets begin to play, booming in the air.

Claudius Templesmith's hysterical voice shouts above them. "Stop! Stop! Ladies and gentlemen," he says almost fusing his words together. "I am pleased to present the victors of the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games, Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark! I give you – I give you the tributes of District Twelve!"

_What?_


	19. Bad news

I spit the berries out. I pull Katniss with me to the lake, making sure not to swallow in case any juice remains. We flush our mouths again and again, and finally wipe our tongues with the end of our shirts.

We collapse into each other's arms. I hold Katniss tight against my chest. My Katniss. She's safe.

"You didn't swallow any?" she asks pulling away to look at me.

I shake my head. "You?" I ask, even though I know she didn't. She would be dead if she had.

"Guess I'd be dead by now if I did," she says, as if reading my thoughts.

It's hard to hear her over the cheers of the crowd from the Capital.

Or maybe it's just me. I feel terrible; my head is spinning, and my ears ringing.

A hovercraft materializes over us, and two ladders drop. Katniss wraps her arm around my waist and helps me up. The electric current freezes us in place as soon as we touch the ladder.

The ladder pulls us up slowly. Too slowly. My head begins spinning again, and black spots cloud my vision. I turn to look at Katniss, but it's too late. Dark. Everything's is so dark…

"_Peeta," whispers a familiar low voice. "Wake up."_

_I open my eyes slowly._

"_Dad?" I look around confused. How did I get here?_

"_Oh," dad sighs in relief. "Finally."_

"_Where's Katniss?" I ask panicked._

"_Katniss?"_

"_Yeah! She was with me, in the ladder, and then I…." I trail off unsure. "Where's Katniss?" I ask again._

"_Son," my dad begins. He touches my forehead. "She didn't make it."_

"_What?! But she was okay – she was okay – I was the one hurt – she was okay – I saw her dad! She was fine!"_

"_The berries, Peeta," he says slowly shaking his head. "Apparently she swallowed some of its juice, and…she didn't make it."_

_No. This can't be happening._

_. "No!"_

"No!"

My eyes open, suddenly, to a different place. I touch my hand to my eyes and am surprised to find moisture there.

"It was dream?" I whisper silently to myself. "It was a dream."

A door opens then, and a girl – probably in her sixteen, seventeen years-old – walks in with a tray of food in her hands.

I try to sit up, but a band around my waist restrains me.

I pull at it, trying to untie it, but the girl stops me. she holds my gaze for a few seconds and then pushes me gently back down.

"Where am I?" I ask her. "Where's Katniss?"

She looks at me and then covers her mouth.

"Oh," I mumble, feeling slightly stupid. She's an Avox.

She pulls a small table from underneath my bed, and places it over my legs. She then presses a few buttons on the side of my bed, and it fixes me up into a sitting position.

She places my food in the table and turns to leave.

I grab her hand before she can walk away. She flinches away, her eyes wide and looks around the room as if someone is watching us.

"Sorry," I whisper, and can't help but look around, too.

She smiles a tiny reassuring smile.

"Is – is Katniss okay?" I ask hesitating. I'm afraid I haven't woken up from my dream yet.

She nods once, and walks quickly out of the room.

I sigh in relief.

I stare at the food on the mini table.

I should feel hungry. But I don't.

How long has it been since that day with the berries…? And what happened afterwards? Where's Katniss? Where am _I_?

I look around. All four walls – and the ceiling and the floor, too – are completely white, and the door is barely visible.

There are clear tubes taped to my arm, the needle at its end hidden under my skin.

I push the table away and try to loosen the restraining band again, but before I can manage my way free, the white door opens again and a man in a white robe walks in.

"Peeta Mellark," he greets me with a friendly smile. "I am honored to be taking care of you." He walks over and shakes my hand in a firm grasp. "I'm Doctor Pardo."

"Nice to meet you," I stammer.

The expression on his face is a warm and trusting one, but I can't help myself from staring at his purple hair.

"Well," says Doctor Pardo. "I'm afraid I've got some bad news to spoil your triumph."

"Katniss?" I ask, my heart giving a painful _thump_ against my chest.

"Oh no, no, don't you worry about her, she's alright," he reassures me quickly. "You, in the other hand…" he trails off.

"Me…?"

"Peeta," he says slowly. "First, let me tell you we did everything in our power – and that says a lot considering all the marvelous technology we've got – but unfortunately it wasn't enough this time…"

"What?" I ask him, "What's wrong with me?"

"You're leg was in a very poor condition, Peeta, and we couldn't save it."

It takes a minute for it to sink in, and his silence feels loud when it does.

I reach over to feel my leg, and sure enough, the bump that should have been my calf is missing.

I let my hand lay there, limp on the flat surface of the bed, while my other hand feel the leg that's still there.

"I'm sorry, Peeta," says Doctor Pardo, "I truly did do everything in my power."

"It's okay," I mumble. "It's fine. I mean, I'm alive, I made it. It's okay. I lived to see Katniss again, and that's what matters."

"You really do love her, don't you?" he asks with a fascinated expression.

"You have no idea," I tell him. I recline back against the pillow, and watch as Doctor Pardo walks out the white door.

"Peeta," he says before the door closes behind him. "If you love her like you say, you might want to eat your food." The door closes, and I'm alone once more in the white room.

I pull the mini table back and grab my spoon.


	20. Happy Ending

_When are they letting me out of here?! _I think as I walk anxiously back and forth in my small white room. _I feel like a caged animal_.

I stop to readjust my prosthetic leg.

"Ughh!!" I growl angrily. "Why me?" I glare down at the stupid thing. I sigh. It could've been worse. I mean, it's already pretty bad as it is, but it could have been much worse. I could've died. I wouldn't have been able to see Katniss again.

Katniss. Katniss. Where is she? What is she doing? What – who is she thinking about? What will she think of my new leg?

It's not that bad. Really, I mean, you can't even notice it – I feel it, I know it's there, but you can't really tell. It's a little uncomfortable though, but I'm getting used to it. I have to.

Will it make a difference to Katniss, though? No, no, she's not superficial. It makes a difference to me though. I won't be able to do so many things. Or maybe I will, with enough practice, but I won't do them as good as I would if I had my real leg.

I look around. What time is it? How long have I been here? I feel so lost in this small little white room. So disoriented.

The white camouflaged door slides open.

"Dr. Pardo," I greet him.

"Peeta," he nods. "I see you're making progress with your new leg."

"I guess," I shrug. "Am I getting out of here yet?"

"As a matter of fact you are. I just came here to give your leg a last check."

"Oh, finally," I sight. Finally I'll see her.

"Here, just sit on the bed right there," he motions to the foot of the bed.

I sit, and watch as he unlatches my prosthetic leg.

"Humm," he says studying the tip of what's left of my leg. "Everything seems in order. Your wound is completely healed. You should be fine."

"So can I go now?" I ask almost standing up.

"Easy now," he laughs. "Let me fix your leg first."

I sight exasperated. Right. My leg. Forgot.

"Don't worry, Peeta," he says without looking up. "You'll see her soon enough."

"Oh – no – it's not that, well yes it is, kind of – I just –"

"You don't have to explain yourself kid," he says with a warm smile. "And, don't blush; love is nothing to be embarrassed about."

"Yeah," I mumble stupidly, and look away. I can feel my face burn.

"There, all done. You're good to go. Oh – one more thing." He reaches behind his back and brings out a neatly folded green outfit. "Do you need help with this, or would you rather do it by yourself?"

"I can do it," I tell him. "Thank you, anyway."

"Alright then, Peeta, it was my pleasure to be of your service." He shakes my hand quickly, and turns for the door. "Good luck," he calls over his shoulder.

"Thank you," I say, but the door has already closed behind him.

I stare at the clothes. I unfold them, and can't help but shudder; it's the same outfit we wore in the arena.

Without hesitating, I yank off my robe, and put on the green shirt. I have to sit to put the pants on, though. The boots give a hard time, too, but I manage. I can do this. After surviving the Hunger Games, I can handle anything.

I smooth my hair with my hand and walk over to where the door should be. Instantaneously, the camouflaged door slides open, and I'm free.

I walk out into an empty hallway.

"Hello? Portia? Katniss?"

I walk down the hall as fast as I'm able to. I make turn into another hallway.

"Peeta!"

"Portia!" as soon as I see her familiar, friendly face, I feel better. She runs toward me, and wraps her arms tightly around me, almost throwing me off balance.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Are you okay? Did I hurt you? Oh, I can't believe you made it!"

"Me either," I say. "Where's Katniss? I want to see her."

"You can't see her right now, but don't worry, you will soon enough."

"Why? Where is she?"

"She's with Haymitch, and Cinna, of course. She's probably getting ready right now. Come with me now, I need to get you ready, too."

She places her arm around my shoulders and guides me down the hall and into a big room.

"Peeta!" the crew greets me. They run over, and while some pat my head with tears running down their faces, others pinch my cheeks with wide friendly smiles.

"Alright now, give, Peeta some room, and get to work," says Portia clapping her hands, rushing them. "We have to make this champion shine."

"Bread roll?" offers Portia.

"Oh, no, thanks, I don't feel hungry."

"Humm, probably better if you don't; wouldn't want it to come back up while on TV."

They help me undress, and I can't help but gasp when I see my reflection on the mirror. I've changed so much, and not in a good way. I can see my ribs sticking out through my skin, and my leg – well, my leg is not mine.

"It's okay, Peeta," says Portia reassuringly. "You'll look better very soon. And don't worry; no one will be able to tell how much weight you've lost."

I really don't mind, it was just the shock, that's all. All that concerns me right now is seeing Katniss. The rest I can survive.

I close my eyes as they work around me.

"There," Portia finally announces after what seems too long. "Done."

I open my eyes, and stare at myself in the mirror.

Huh, I do look better. The black pants and the light yellow shirt make me look healthier. My hair is gelled back carefully, and the makeup makes my face look fuller.

"So what do you think?"

"It's good," I reassure her. "Thanks Portia. Not just for this, but for everything. You're one of the nicest people I've met."

"Oh, stop it, Peeta," she says wiping her eyes. "You're getting me all emotional." She miles at me, and pats my shoulder. "You're a good kid, Peeta, one of the nicest I've met."

"Thanks," I say. "Now, how about that roll; I think I regained my appetite."

She laughs and helps me to the sofa.

"Here. Eat fast though. It's almost time."

The thought of seeing Katniss again, gets my stomach turning and twisting, but not in a bad way.

"Ahh, Portia? I think I lost my appetite again. Can we just go?"

"Are you sure?"

My stomach twists again. "Yup."

"Oh – wait." She walks over to the closet. "You'll probably need this."

She gives me a walking stick.

"Do I have to?"

"You might need it."

I nod. "Okay, I guess it wouldn't hurt."

We take the elevator to the level where we trained. It's a tradition for the victor and his or her support team to rise from beneath the stage.

Portia guides me to the metal plate that will raise me to the stage, and then leaves to change into her costume and take her position.

I look around. I'm in a poorly lit area under the stage. There's a few people rushing about, making sure everything's set.

I can hear the crowd; a loud roar of cheers makes the floor vibrate slightly.

The anthem plays and then I can hear Caesar Flickerman greeting the audience. When Effie is introduced I can't help but smile; I remember the day of the reaping and how ridiculous she looked in her pink wig. Not a very happy memory, but the fact that I am here to remember it somehow cancels out the dark side of that story.

Cinna and Portia are introduced, too, and I can hear the crowd going nuts.

The metal plate vibrates, and I can feel it lifting me up to the stage. Bright blinding lights and a deafening roar from the crowd greet me. I let my eyes adjust. I turn to look at my right, and I can see Katniss, in all her beautiful glory, standing there, letting her eyes adjust, too.

This is it, I think. We've officially won the Hunger Games.

One step closer to the happy ending…


	21. The Show

She turns around, blocking the blinding lights with her fragile-looking hand, and runs to me. She flings herself into my arms, almost making me lose my balance. I right myself and wrap my arms as tightly as I'm able to around her. We stand there, just clinging to each other, ignoring the deafening roar of the audience all around us, forgetting everything else for a while.

I kiss her forehead, her hands, her cheeks, her lips, just to make sure she's really here with me. Finally together. As it should've been from the beginning. Everything's right. Finally. Finally.

I can feel knots in my throat, and my eyes sting. I take a deep breath to compose myself. I can't show weakness in front of the Capital. I'm one of the victors. I'm supposed to be strong.

Caesar Flicker man taps on my shoulder to continue the show, and I push his hand away reflexively. The audience goes crazy. Nothing more entertaining than two people who care for each other reuniting after having gone through hell and back. What could be more entertaining than that?

Finally, Haymitch interrupts us and gives us a good natured shove toward the victor's chair. Without letting go of Katniss, we take our position on the red velvet couch in the center of the stage.

Katniss slides closer to me and leans her head on my shoulder. I kiss the top of her head, and put my arm around her.

I notice that she looks too girly. She's wearing a flimsy, frilly dress, and delicate looking sandals. Whatever happened to the fearless, unhesitant girl on fire?

Caesar makes a few witty remarks, and then it's time for the show. The lights dim, the seal appears on a huge screen, the crowd hushes each other, and the show begins.

I really don't want to relive the hunger games again. Even if I am sitting comfortably next to the girl I love. I don't want to see the bloodbath again, the killing of innocents. I don't want to see any of it. But since I have no choice, and since my facial expressions will be carefully watched and criticized by everyone, I take another deep breath and ready myself for the show.

So, suffering silently on the inside, I watch a replay of the several weeks of hell I lived. The first part focuses on the pre-arena events. The reaping scene gets to me the most. That's when it all started. That's when my soul was sold to the devil. That's when they took my dignity away, my values. But that's also when I was given a ticket, an opportunity to get closer to Katniss. I watch, moved, as she bravely takes her sister's place, and walks stiffly, but with her head high, to the platform to take her place next to me, while Prim thrashes and cries inconsolably in Gale's restricting and protective arms.

Gale. His face betrays no emotion, but his eyes do. I can see all the pain behind them. I can see he suffers, too. Of course he does. He loves her, too. But I don't grudge him for that. How can I blame him for loving Katniss? How can I hate him for having fallen into the same spell I did?

And then comes the bloodbath. Blood here, blood there. Everywhere. Innocent kids being slaughtered.

Sickening. Sad.

The fire. The girl Cato stabbed. Katniss on the tree with all the careers surrounding her. Me not being able to look her in the eye. The tracker bees. My almost deadly battle with Cato – I still can't believe I survived that one. Katniss new alliance with little Rue.

That makes me stop to think. What would've Katniss done if both Rue and her had made it to the end. Would she have sacrificed herself? Would she have been able to kill little Rue? What would she have done? I watch stunned as Rue – putting he guard down completely – nestles on Katniss shoulder and falls asleep. She trusted Katniss with her life. Literally.

Their plot to take down the Careers. The mine explosion that almost killed Katniss.

I can feel my hear rushing as I watch Katniss struggling to get to her feet, struggling to escape, and making it to the bushes just as the Careers arrive at the scene of the crime. Even when she was so completely vulnerable she outsmarted the careers.

Rue's death.

That breaks my heart. The song Katniss sings to Rue as she dies is probably the most heat-touching thing I've ever heard or seen. I can see tears glistening on many faces as Rue's eyes close and Katniss spills tears of her own. I glance swiftly at Katniss. Her face is as expressionless as a mannequin's. Hard. Empty.

Katniss yelling my name as they announce two tributes from the same district can win.

I have to admit, this gives me a deep satisfaction. I remember thinking about her when they announced it. I remember being frustrated because I couldn't go looking for her. But she found me.

The days in the cave – my personal favorites. The "sugar berries" incident – I'll never forget that one. Her battle with glimmer – I shiver runs down my spine as I hear what glimmer planned to do with her. And then comes Thresh.

I still can't believe he let her go. Just because he didn't want to be in debt with her. But I'm glad he let her go. Wherever he is right now, I hope with all my heart that he's rewarded for his good deed.

Foxface's un-clever move that results in her death. The mutts.

The mutts. I know they'll be the subject of my nightmares for a long time. I can still remember their knowing, human eyes. How can the audience not be horrified, disgusted, disturbed by the fact that even after the innocent teenagers were brutally killed, their corpses were still not able to rest in peace. Maybe they don't even know. And if they do… all of them are just bloodthirsty monsters.

The scene with the berries. I can't believe we were so close to death. What if Katniss had swallowed one by mistake? What would I have done without her? I would have followed her. I would have swallowed the rest of the berries right there and then. I wouldn't want to live without her. It would make no sense.

The video ends with a scene of Katniss pounding on a glass door of the hovercraft, screaming my name as they try to revive me.

The anthem plays again and we rise as President Snow takes the stage, followed by a little girl carrying a crown on a pillow. Just one crown. The confusion is loud on the silent crowd. President Snow smiles, twists it into two halves and places them on each of our heads. The crowd erupts on roar of cheers.

We wave at the crowd for so long, my arm feels like it's about to fall out, and then we are guided to the president's mansion for the victory Banquet.

We take pictures with all the generous sponsors, face after face, and flash after flash.

The sun is already peeking over the horizon when we drag back to the twelfth floor of the training center.

Even though I never let go of Katniss hand, we never got a chance to talk. We were too busy attending to all the guests. As the elevator door opens I think I'll finally get a chance to talk to her, but Haymitch beats me to the punch.

"But I want to talk to h-" I try to tell him.

"You'll get your chance," he reassures me. "Right now you need to be well rested. You're on air at two. You need to look good for the camera. Both of you."

"But I- "

"Not now." Haymitch says dismissively. "Go on to bed now."

"But – "

"Go!"

"Ugh! Fine!" I grumble and let Portia guide me down the hall.

I look back to glance at Katniss, but she's gone.


	22. The interview

Portia takes me to the dressing room and makes me try a few outfits before she's finally satisfied. I nod and _umm_ as she chitchats about how delicious the banquet food was. Of course,_ that's_ what you would talk about after all that happened today. Why would you talk about how sickening it was to watch a replay of innocents' slaughters? Why would you comment about how nobody so much as twitched every time a tribute on screen was brutally killed? Pshh! Why would you waste your time talking about any of _that_ when you can talk about how tasty the food was? Who would even bother?

I take a deep breath. It's not Portia's fault. Of course not. She probably just thinks talking about that would upset me. And she's right. So why do I feel so _disgusted_, so _enraged_ that we're making small talk after all that has happened?

No, it's not Portia. It's me. I promised myself I wouldn't let the hunger games change me, yet here I am, bitter and angry. But who can blame me?

"Alright. Everything's ready for tomorrow," announces Portia. "Go on to bed now. You don't want to pass out during the interview, now do you?"

"Okay," I mumble. "Good night."

I walk across the hall and into my room. I think about looking for Katniss, but then think better of it. I close the door, walk to my bed, and let my body collapse on it, face down.

"Katniss," I whisper. "Soon. We'll be able to be together, finally."

I turn on my back, kick off my shoes, my pants, and tug free out of my shirt. I'm so glad the prosthetic can be left on; I really don't want to "take my leg off" every time I go to bed. I climb under the cool, soft covers, and let my mind drift away.

There's so much to think about; I have a whole new life ahead of me. When I go back home I won't have to eat stale bread for dinner anymore. And my father, and siblings, they'll finally be able to just sit back and relax for once. Oh, and my mother, too, I guess. Anyway. Life will be so much easier.

Katniss. She'll be part of that life. Of my life.

It can't be. Is it really possible that there can be a happy ending after all? Katniss, and my family? I can have it all?

It's like a dream. But it isn't. It's real, so real I can taste it.

Katniss…

"Wake up! Today's a big, big, big day! Wake up!"

"Ahh," I groan. "Go away."

"Open up, Peeta, time to get ready," announces Effie in a loud voice as she obnoxiously pounds on the door.

I have about five minutes to eat, before the prep team comes down and literally drag to the dressing room.

They dress me in white pants, and a red shirt. The shoes are white too. Portia takes care of my hair, and make up. They work fast, and before I know it Portia turns me around to face the mirror.

"What do you think?" Portia asks, but answers her own question before I open my mouth. "Handsome, of course, a work of art. So you like it?"

"I –"

"Of course you do," she says with bright eyes. "You look like a god."

"Thanks, Portia," I say before she can start talking again.

The interview takes place right down the hall in the sitting room. A space has been cleared for a small sofa surrounded with vases of red and pink roses. There, no audience this time, just the prep team.

Caesar Flickerman greets me warmly when I come in. "Congratulations, Peeta," he says as he shakes my hand with a firm grip. "How are you doing?"

"I'm fine, just a little nervous, but nothing to worry about."

"Of course you shouldn't worry," he reassures me with a smile. "This is going to be fun, you'll see." He pats my shoulder and walks away.

And then I see Katniss, looking beautiful in a delicate white dress. I grab her hand, and pull her off to the side.

"I hardly get to see you," I say. "Haymitch seems bent on keeping us apart."

"Yes, he's gotten very responsible lately," she smiles.

"Well, there's just this and we go home," I say with relief. "Then he can't watch us all the time."

I want to talk to her more, but they're ready and waiting for us.

We sit on the small sofa.

"Oh, go ahead and curl up next to him if you want," says Caesar. "It looked very sweet."

Katniss tucks her feet up, and I pull her closer to me.

Someone counts backwards, and then we're live. Caesar, make a few jokes, and then gets down to business.

I do most of the talking, and I don't mind; Caesar is a very nice man, and I want to help out Katniss. Eventually of course, Caesar has had enough one word answers from Katniss.

" Katniss, what a ride for you," Caesar says. "I think the real excitement for the audience was watching you fall for him," he nods in my direction. "When did you realize you were in love with him?"

"Oh, that's a hard one…" she says with a breathy laugh, looking down at her hands.

"Well, I know when it hit me," says Caesar. "The night when you shouted his name from that tree."

"Yes," Katniss says still looking down. "I guess that was it. I mean, until that point, I just tried not to think about what my feelings might be, honestly, because it was so confusing, and it only made things worse if I actually cared about him. But then, in the tree, everything changed."

"Why do you think that was?" urges Caesar.

"Maybe… because for the first time… there was a chance that I could keep him," she says.

My heart gives a loud, painful _thud_. My Katniss.

Caesar pulls a handkerchief and has to take a moment because he's so moved.

I press my forehead into her temple. "So now that you've got me, what are you going to do with me?" I ask her.

"Put you somewhere where you can't get hurt," she says turning to me.

I lean in and, forgetting the cameras for a minute, kiss her gently on her lips.

Then we have to get back to business. We talk about all the wounds – minor, and major – until Caesar asks me how my new leg is doing.

"New leg?" asks Katniss confused. She reaches out and pulls up the bottom of my pants. "Oh, no," she whispers.

"No one told you?" Caesar asks gently.

She shakes her head.

"I haven't had the chance," I say.

"It's my fault. Because I used the tourniquet," Katniss says with disgust.

"Yes," I say. She looks up. "It's your fault I'm alive," I finish.

"He's right," says Caesar. "He'd have bled to death for sure without it."

She buries her face in my shirt, and Caesar leaves her alone until he's sure she's recovered.

"Katniss," Caesar says lightly. "I know you've got a shock, but I've got to ask. The moment when you pulled out those berries. What was going on in your mind, hm?"

"I don't know," she mumbles. "I just… couldn't bear the thought of… being without him."

Another painful heart _thud_.

"Peeta?" Caesar turns to me. "Anything to add?"

"No. I think that goes for the both of us."

Caesar signs off and it's over. Everyone's laughing and crying and hugging, and I'm just relieved that we can finally go home.

At last.


	23. The truth

I meander back to my room. I look around at the pristine room. There's nothing in here that calls to me. It's just a strange empty place. Home is what calls to me now, and soon I'll be able to answer that call.

Portia comes and guides me outside the building into a car with tinted windows. Katniss is there. I smile and take my place right next to her. I grab her hand and she rests her head on my shoulder. They drive us through the silent streets to the waiting train that will take us home.

We barely have time to say good bye to Cinna and Portia; as soon as we get out of the car we are rushed to the train. We'll see them again, though, when we tour the districts for a round of victory ceremonies. I'm definitely not looking forward to those charades. They'll give us awards and plaques and ribbons while everyone has to pretend they love us.

_Love_ us? They hate – no, they _despise_ us. After all we killed a friend, brother, sister, son, or daughter from their district. And if we didn't personally kill them, we killed any chance of them surviving. Oh yeah, they love us alright.

Effie and Haymitch are accompanying us back. We all eat dinner and then settle in to watch a replay of the interview. I barely pay attention; my mind is too convoluted to make sense of anything. I'm overwhelmed with thoughts of the future.

When the train makes a stop for fuel, Katniss and I go outside for a walk and some fresh air. We walk along the train tracks, hand in hand. I see a patch of pink and white flowers, and I stop to gather a few for Katniss. When I give them to her, though, she doesn't look too happy.

"What's wrong?" I ask her.

"Nothing," she replies, and continues walking past the end of the train.

I follow her silently, a little shaken by her response. Obviously there's something wrong.

And then Haymitch is there.

"Great job, you two," he says in a low voice, as if he's afraid someone's listening. "Just keep it up in the district until the cameras are gone. We should be okay," he adds and heads back to the train before I can ask him what he meant by that.

"What's he mean?" I ask Katniss.

"It's the Capital," she says. "They didn't like our stunt with the berries."

Stunt?

"What? What are you talking about?"

"It seemed too rebellious. So, Haymitch has been coaching me through the last few days. So I wouldn't make it worse."

What?

"Coaching you?" I ask confused. "But not me…"

"He knew you were smart enough to get it right."

I have to play what she just said twice in my head before I understand what she means.

…_to get it …right?_

My heart gives a jerky painful _thud._

"I didn't know there was anything to get right…" I say, and for some reason can't conceive, my throat suddenly feels tight. "So, what you're saying is, these last few days and then I guess… back in the arena… that was just some strategy you two worked out." It's not a question.

"No," she says desperately. "I mean," she stammers, "I couldn't even talk to him in the arena, could i?"

"But you knew what he wanted you to do, didn't you?" Please say no.

She bites her lips, and her eyes look desperately into mine as if trying to find the answer there.

"Katniss?" That silence is answer enough for me. I Drop her hand and she takes a step back, as if to catch her balance. "It was all for the games. How you acted." No. No. It can't be.

"Not all of it," she mumbles.

I almost laugh at this. Not all of it? "Then how much?" I almost demand of her. By this point the pain in my chest is almost unbearable, and my throat grows tighter by the second. "No, forget that," I correct myself. "I guess the real question is what's going to be left when we get home?"

"I don't know," she says. Of all the answers… "The closer we get to District 12," she continues, "the more confused I get.

This can't be happening. She can't do this. She can't. But she already has, says a mournful voice in my head, she already has.

"Well," I say trying to maintain my voiced as composed as possible, "let me know when you work it out."

I turn around and, without another word or a backward glance, walk back to the train. Alone.

Alone. Again.

Hey guys, hope you like this small chapter. So sorry I couldn't make it longer, and that I took so long to write just this, but lately I barely have time to breathe. I promise I'll update again as soon as I can. Tell me what you think of the story so far, and I welcome any suggestions for future chapters, all credit to the donor. Also, if between my readers there's anyone from college, please I would appreciate some heads up, any advise at all about applying for college. Thanks. =]


	24. Pain

I walk with slow deliberate steps, but all the while I feel like running. As soon as I step into the train, out of her sight, I make a run for it, pushing some servants on the way.

"Sorry," I mutter to them, and keep running till I make it to my room.

I close the door behind me, and let myself sink to the floor. My breath feels short, like a stone has been placed on my chest. I put my head between my knees, and take long, slow breaths.

"Stupid!" I mutter to myself. "How could I have been so stupid?!"

How could she have done this to me? Why did she let me fall for her? Why didn't she warn me? Why?

"Pathetic," I tell myself, getting to my feet. "Ugh! And why in the damn bloody hell is this room so damn hot!?" I wonder out loud, ripping my shirt off.

I walk to the bathroom and turn the faucet on. I let the sink fill halfway with cold water, and splash my face and neck with it. I look at my reflection on the mirror.

"Pathetic," I whisper at the reflection, for I'm afraid that if I raise my voice it will crack. "How could you have let yourself fall for her?!"

I remember the nights at the cave. Every kiss, every touch, every word was a lie… just a well-acted lie.

Suddenly I am filled with rage; I can feel my blood pulsing on my temples, my heartbeats quickening.

"It was all a well-acted damn lie!" I spit and throw a ceramic soap bottle at the mirror.

I instantly step back from the explosion of glass, but not before one sharp piece slashes at the exposed skin on my stomach.

"Ouch! Damn it! Damn it all!"

I wipe the blood roughly away with a piece of tissue, not bothering to bandage it. I kick the pieces of glass aside with my foot, and walk to bed. I let my body fall on the bed.

"Damn it all," I whisper. "Damn it all."

Without me really noticing, reality suddenly slips away and I am walking through a forest. It's unnaturally silent in here and I feel as though I am looking for something. I keep walking and, out of nowhere a hovercraft appears on top of me, blocking the sun. The door opens and I can see Katniss inside.

"Katniss! Katniss, jump!" I shout reaching out for her.

But she doesn't move; she just stands there looking down at me. Suddenly the door starts closing again, but before it closes completely she smiles, waves, and mouths goodbye.

"No!" I scream.

I wake up startled, and covered in sweat.

"No," I whisper. "Please, don't do this to me."

I feel something warm running down my temples. I touch my fingers to my eyes, and find tears pooled there.

"Perfect," I mutter to myself. "Just perfect." As if having wasted my hopes on Katniss wasn't enough, now I'm wasting my tears and my pride on her too. Just perfect.

I get up and walk to the bathroom and I find that the shattered glass has been cleaned up. Suddenly I feel embarrassed, and blood rushes to my face; I don't want anyone to know about my weakness and anger tantrums, not even a mute Avox.

I turn on the faucet on the bathtub and let it fill halfway with warm water. I press the right buttons, and soap is added to the water; I press another button, and suddenly the water stars bubbling. I take off my remaining clothes and carefully slip into the water. I'm so glad my synthetic leg is water proof.

I rest my head on a soft, small pillow on a side of the bathtub, and close my eyes. I try not to think about Katniss, but almost as soon as I close my eyes, my mind is flooded with memories of her. I open my eyes exasperated. I press another couple of buttons, and suddenly the bathroom is vibrating with loud senseless cacophony that's supposed to be music. Just what I need. Now I can't think about her even if I try.

I don't know how much time passes before I finally get out of the bathtub, but I know that I've missed dinner, for the sun is no longer visible through the small window in the bathroom. When I get back to my room, I find that someone has left food in my room.

I sit on the side of my bed, still with only a towel wrapped around my waist, and eat my meal while the loud music is still rattling my brain.

When I'm done eating, I change quickly into a pair of shorts and then drop to the floor and start doing push-ups, concentrating only on the loud music and on the physical strain, until my arms are almost numb from exhaustion. After that I proceed to sit-ups, then to crouches, and after that to chin-ups. By the time I count to 234 chin-ups, I'm done for the night. I dry off my sweat with a towel and then, almost as soon as I drop on bed, I pass out.

When I wake up, I feel a little disoriented, but when I come to my full senses, I realize that it's morning. Mercifully enough my sleep was dreamless. I look at the clock.

"10 a.m. already?" I muse out loud.

I'm startle by a knock on the door.

"Who is it?" I call out after clearing my throat.

"Peeta, is me, Haymitch. Open the door."

"Go away," I call out.

"Peeta, just open the door, I need to talk to you," he calls back sounding a little exasperated.

"Forget it," I answer back. "Go to hell. Both of you. I don't need you. I don't need any of this!"

I hear a dull _thump_ on the door. His forehead maybe?

"Peeta, I just want to talk," he says. "Eventually we'll have to."

"Of course," I mutter caustically, and then louder. "Everything is planned."

He doesn't answer.

"I don't want to talk," I tell him. "I just want to be alone right now, okay?"

"Peeta we're almost there," he insists. "Please," softer, "just come on."

I sigh. "Fine," I mutter and open the door.

"Peeta," he says softly looking directly at me, "About Katniss…"

"No," I cut him off. "Please don't. I really don't want to talk about her right now…It's bad enough as it is."

He nods his head slowly.

"You're a good kid, Peeta," he says. "And strong, too. I really am sorry about everything."

"It's not your fault."

"It's not hers either."

"I know, but it's just that… it's just that…I love her Haymitch." But she doesn't, and it's not her fault either.

"I know you do, kid. Nobody would have done what you did out there in the arena."

I sigh. "So I'm a hero, yay," I say sarcastically. "Too bad I can't have my lady like in the old hero tales."

He pats me in the back. "Listen kid, I know it hurts, but you have to be strong for a little while longer, okay? For the cameras, that's all I ask of you, though I have no right to do so what so ever."

"For the cameras," I repeat. I can do that.

Without another word he walks out, closing the door behind him.

For the cameras. Don't expect anything else from her. So when she smiles at you, holds your hand, keep that in mind Peeta. So you don't get hurt again.

More than I already am, I think to myself.


	25. Chapter 25

I pull on a simple outfit: black trousers and a white shirt. I comb through my hair with my fingers, smoothing it out. I splash my face with cold water. One quick look in the mirror – there, perfect. I take a deep breath before heading out the door.

As I walk through the narrow hallway of the train, I can't help but wonder what Katniss has thought of my absence. Did she ask for me? Did she think about me at all?

My heart gives a painful thump against my chest, as if to remind me of my awful reality.

I make it to the end of the hallway, and there she is, beautiful like always. She looks up at me and her eyes are pleading. My heart beats hard in my chest, almost reaching for her. Before my face can betray any emotion, I look away to the window, pretending to look at the desolate land flashing by.

The train breaks to a stop and through the windows I can see a crowd of people waiting for us. Everyone is eager to see the victors of the hunger games – the lovers. Only we're not. It was all planned. But of course, they can't find out. We have to keep up the charade or else our family and we would be in a lot of trouble. They would probably execute us publicly for having made fools out of the game makers, and most importantly the Capital. A quick death if we're lucky, but most likely they would torture us first. An image of Katniss screaming in pain flashes in my mind, and I cringe away from it. They can't hurt her. I rather they kill me first.

And so her life is in my hands. I must protect her at whatever cost – I must keep up the act. Even she did break my heart, inflicting me with the worst kind of pain I could ever imagine.

I extend my hand to her, and she looks at it unsure.

"One more time," I say trying to keep my voice emotionless. "For the audience?"

She looks at me with penetrating eyes, and I can see longing in them. Longing for what? To get away from me? Maybe it's not even longing, maybe it's just plain pity.

She takes my hand, holding on tightly, and I must hold back the urge to squeeze it in return, to kiss it, to kiss her. I look straight forward as the doors begin to slide open. Smile, I think bitterly to myself. Smile for the cameras.

* * *

The doors open, and we're instantly blinded by the flash of the cameras. Everyone is yelling questions at us, shoving microphones in our faces.

"Katniss, what did your first kill feel like?"

"Would you really have sacrificed yourself for Katniss?"

"Was it all planned out from the beginning? The alliance with the careers?"

"Peeta, would you please kiss her for the cameras?"

"Yeah, kiss her! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!"

And suddenly the entire crowd is chanting in unison. _Kiss! Kiss!!_

I look over at Katniss, and I can see a blush spreading on her face. I would reach for her face in other circumstances, whisper in her ear that her blush is lovely. But instead, I just lean over hesitantly and whisper: "Just for the cameras alright?"

She looks at me, something intelligible in her gaze, and nods inconspicuously in approval. I lean over once more, cupping her face in my hands, and press my lips on hers gently. The kiss lasts only seconds, but it's enough get my heart racing with love and sadness at the same time. Finally it's too much for me, and I have to pull away. I put my arm around her shoulders and smile at the crowd to cover up, but inside I'm bleeding.

_I love you!_ My heart is screaming, crying. But I remain silent.

Not the crowd. The crowd is wild, laughing, chanting, enjoying the show.

"One more time!" Somebody shouts, and someone else shouts in agreement. But mercifully Haymitch steps in.

"Alright folks," he says laughing. "Give the sweethearts some space! I'm sure after such a long trip they need some privacy. Wink, wink!" he adds in loudly, mock-nudging Katniss.

The crowd bursts into laughter, but makes room for us to pass through. We're led to the Justice Building, where we're greeted by the Mayor. He congratulates the both of us, and then disappears into a room full of reporters. There is a banquet, and everyone seems to be enjoying themselves. Sickening.

All this time I hadn't let go of Katniss's hand. But suddenly I feel overwhelmed; I pull my hand out of her grip and without a word rush out of the reception room toward the bathrooms.

Thankfully the bathrooms are empty. I head to the sinks and splash my face with cold water again and again. I look at myself in the mirror and take a deep breath.

_What am I doing?_ I think. _What the hell am I doing? _I might as well dig up a whole and bury myself in it. Because I'm killing myself. How in the world do I expect to get over her if I'm going to be close to her all the time – well, only in front of the cameras. But that's already too much for me to handle.

Doesn't she understand? I love her! I am in love with her! How could she have done this to me, if she knew how things would have to be when – if – we got back to District 12?

Ahh! But never mind that now! I have to follow along now if I want her to be safe.

I wipe my face with rough paper towels and head out the door. I am deep in thought as I walk out of the bathroom and I don't notice her standing right in front of me until I crash with her. Suddenly there's a tangle of legs and arms, and we collapse.

"Oh my God – Katniss are you alright?" I ask her anxiously.

"Um, yeah I think so," she says staring at me wide eyed. And then bursts out laughing.

"What so funny?" I ask a little annoyed.

"You!" she giggles. "I'm sorry – I'm not making fun of you or anything, promise." she says. "It's just it was pretty classic, that's all. Plus you should've seen your face – really, I'm not making fun of you! – don't be mad," she pleads.

"I'm not mad," I reassure her. "How can I be?" I'm staring into the eyes of the most beautiful girl – how can I be mad? Mad at myself for not being able to be mad at her, yes. But never mad at her.

"I'm sorry," she says suddenly with the saddest expression I've ever seen in her face. "Peeta I should've – I mean, I wasn't – I just – "

"Shhh!" I say, placing my index finger over her mouth. "Please don't. It – it's not easy as it is, you know."

I realize that I'm still on top of her. Unwillingly I pull myself off her. I stand up and extend my hand to help her and help her up. I try to retrieve my hand from hers, but she holds on.

"Katniss – ", but before I can finish my sentence she throws her arms around me.

Instinctively my arms wrap around her waist, and I can't help but inhale the sweet scent of her hair.

Oh God, I love her.

But she doesn't, at least not like I do.

"Goodbye Katniss," I say. "At least until the cameras come around again," I chuckle darkly.

"Peeta don't – "

But I can't take it anymore right now. It's too much. I walk away as fast as my prosthetic leg can carry me. Might as well rip my heart out now and save myself the pain.

I rub my eyes with my hands, and once again find moisture there.


	26. Note

**Hey guys =] It's been such a long time since I've been in Fanfiction….ahhh High school can be so stressing. But on the plus side I'm done with college applications!!! yay!! So that means I have more free time to write. HELL ON EARTH IS BACK!!! XD**


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